8 Seconds to Win
by Speklez
Summary: Running from a past that nearly killed her, Isabella found herself in the boons of Texas where it finally caught up with her in the least likely of places. Was it coincidence or fate when she ran into the local riding legend armed with a rifle and a killer southern drawl? AU/AH All my normal disclaimers apply. *REPOST*
1. Chapter 1

**SURPRISE!**

 **Okay, so like... I posted this on another site and decided... what the Hell; why not.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **~Speklez**

Stepping off the plane, Isabella wrapped her arms around herself, more in comfort than anything. She let her eyes roam the crowd, searching for something that wasn't there, but was unable to stop herself. Despite the warmth in the air, the humidity clamming up her skin, she felt cold, like ice water had replaced her blood. She knew it was irrational to feel such a thing, but she couldn't help it.

She was a long way from home and knew she could never go back.

A light sigh of regret and heartache escaped her lips as her shoulders fell a little in memory. She had only left the only place she had ever known a few hours ago, but she already missed it. Eyes lifting to the ceiling, she wondered if this was a good idea, if it was the right road to take; if running was the only option she really had. She knew that it wasn't safe to stay, but there were so many things that made her second guess the decision to leave behind everyone and everything she had to start all over.

She was still young. It wasn't like 23 was middle age or anything, but she had a good life, a great job she adored and friends she had known since diapers she wasn't sure she could live without… all over 1500 miles away from where she now stood.

Her eyes closed as they filled with tears. That was something she swore to herself she wouldn't do, not again. She had cried enough tears over the stupid son of a bitch. She refused to let even a single one more fall. Blinking them back, Isabella once again lowered her eyes to the crowd, this time looking for a face that was supposed to be there, that knew she was as well.

A small smile pulled her lips when she spotted her Uncle Marshal across the room from her, looking like he came right from the fields to the airport. Even from the distance she still was from him, she could see the grass stains on his shirt and the dirt smudges on his forehead from using his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his brow. Say what you will about backwoods country bumpkins, they were simple folk with a work ethic and hearts of gold.

Making her way over to him, her carry on hit the floor when she was swept off her feet into the surprisingly big and strong arms of her uncle. Suppressing the cringe at the feel of his sweat covered skin and the thought of the filth on his clothing transferring to her pristinely clean ones, she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the hug.

After a minute or so, her uncle set her back on her feet and, with his hands on her shoulders, held her out at arms length, his blue eyes as vibrant as the sky and a wide, easy and affectionate smile in his face. Giving her a quick once over, "You look good, Sug." His eyes flattened ever so little as he asked his next question, his voice losing just a bit of the gruffness that it always had, "How you doin', Isa-Bee?"

Heart giving a little flutter at the nickname he had given her when she was nothing but a kid, Isabella gave a half-hearted smile and a little shrug of her shoulder, "Honestly, I have been better, Uncle Marsh." Sighing again, she blinked a few times to once again battle her tears that brimmed her eyes, "I just… I mean…" Shaking her head in defeat, she didn't continue the thought, not really having a good enough one to finish with. In truth, she was doing really shitty and wasn't sure that that was going to be up for change anytime soon.

Understanding blossomed behind her uncle's eyes as he gave her a little nod of his head. Pulling her back to him, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pressed a light kiss to her forehead, "Well, you ain't got nothing to worry 'bout now, Youngin." Pulling back just a tad so he could see her eyes, Marshal smirked a little, "The only way that boy gonna be getting to you is through me and huntin' rifle, ya hear?"

Despite the situation, a little giggle climbed free of her throat and a little bigger of a smile parted her lips, showing the first real smile that she has shown in over a year. "I love you, Uncle Marsh."

Releasing her and bending to pick up her tote, Marshal winked at his niece, "With all my heart, Isa-bee. Com'on, Your Aunt Steffy gonna be sendin' the dogs on us if we don't be gettin' back soon."

Isabella blinked at her uncle a few times, trying to figure out what the fuck he just said, when he set his hand on the small of her back and began to pull her through the mass of people to baggage claim for her luggage before they headed out to the old truck that she personally thought was WAY passed its prime.

She settled herself into the front seat as commanded while her uncle loaded the two suitcases into the bed. Once her uncle was beside her in the cab, she twisted in her seat and looked at him, "Don't you think it might be time for a new truck, Uncle Marsh? I mean, this thing is a pile of rust." Seeing the look on his face, Isabella backtracked a bit, "no offence."

Shooting his niece a grin, Marshal gave the dash a hard pat, "ol' girl might not be pretty, but she still got some life in 'er yet. Ain't no need to be replacin' nothin' that ain't broken, Sug." Cranking the engine to life, he caressed the steering wheel with a loving touch before looking back at his niece, "You big city girls got a lot to learn 'bout us little backtown folk. Just 'cause somethin' gets 'ol don't mean you replace it." Then a sly look overtook his features, "If that were true, I wouldn't still be with your Aunt Steffy."

Isabella snorted hard before she broke out in laughter. If there was one thing that she could always count on, it was her Uncle Marsh making everything that seemed absolutely horrible not quite so bad.

 ***X***

It took over an hour and a half to get from the airport to her uncle's farm. During the ride, Isabella and her uncle talked about all matter of things, from how she had done in her last semester of college to what in the name of fuck there was to do in the area. Though Isabella couldn't say anything that her uncle listed sounded like anything she would actually be interested in doing, at least she did find out that there was a bigger city not quite as far away from the farm as the one she was picked up at, meaning that she wouldn't completely lose her mind from boredom while she was there.

When they turned off the main road onto a dirt drive, there was what seemed like a pack of wild dogs jumping up the side of the truck, whining and barking for attention. Isabella, startled at the actions, let out a squeak and slid away from the open window when she felt the cold, wet nose of one of the bigger dogs.

Head whipping around at the sound of her uncle's chuckle, she looked at him with wide eyes, "Seriously?"

Still chuckling a little, Marshal glanced at her a moment before turning back to the drive so he didn't end up hitting one of the pups but didn't say anything to her. He knew that the girl wasn't the world's biggest fan on dogs, but he was a hunter and every one of the pooches were as well. It wasn't like there were a lot of them, there was only four.

Pulling up to the house, Marshal cut the engine and smirked at his niece, "Awe, com'on now, Isa-bee. It ain't all that bad. You'll be gettin' used to 'em in no time. 'Member Sug, you were sent here by your Momma for protection till that piece of shit ex of yours is caught and there ain't no better warning on God's green earth better than these pups. Ain't no one gonna git on my land without them lettin' me know they here."

Still not liking the fact that there was a bunch of dogs running around, Isabella conceded to that and turned to get out of the truck. It was a fight against Kujo it seemed, but she came out the victor when she told the dog to get back. Blinking a little when it actually listened to her, she slowed opened the door, just in case the huge fucker tried any funny business.

Once she got out of the cab, she followed after her uncle up to the porch, tripping more than once over a dog that got under her feet. Since she had taken to looking down so she didn't actually end up falling, she didn't see her aunt come out to greet them, she did hear her though.

"Mercy me; did you bring home the wrong girl, Marshal? This cannot be my little Isa-bee."

Isabella looked up from the ground and smiled wide at the sight her Aunt Steffy. No longer caring about the little four legged pest, she darted through the mass of fur and up the steps, throwing herself into her aunt's arms, returning her hug without hesitation. "I missed you, Aunt Steffy."

Bell like laughter sounded in the air as Steff squeezed the life out of her niece. After a long moment, she pulled back and held Isabella at arms-length and gave her a very deliberate once over before shaking her head with a tisk, "My Lord have mercy, don't you eat, Child? You ain't nothing but skin and bone. Don't you fret none Isa-Bee, Auntie Steffy gonna fatten you right up. Com'on now, dinner is on the table gettin' cold while we out here yappin' like fools."

Isabella pressed her lips together trying to contain her laughter before shaking her head, "I ate on the plane Aunt Steffy."

There was a look on Steff's face that Isabella hadn't seen since she was five and she didn't like it now either. "I don't recall askin' you if you ate on the plane, Youngin. I said dinner is on the table."

Isabella had to actually put effort into not groaning out loud at that. No, she hadn't actually eaten on the plane, because let's face it that shit will make you sicker than hell, but she really wasn't hungry. All she wanted to do was take a shower and got to bed. However, she knew that her aunt wasn't about to let her go to bed without eating at least one plate of food so she just nodded and followed her aunt inside and into the dining room.

Taking a seat at the table, Isabella took a look around the room, taking in all the knickknacks, trinkets and pageant trophies that her aunt had won when she was younger. There were lace curtains over the windows, the walls were a soft cream color that matched most of the rest of house. The table that took up most of the room was oak and had certainly seen better days. She had to admit, the room was homey and inviting, just like her aunt was.

Her aunt came back in the room with a plate for her and her uncle, nearly overflowing, with mashed potatoes, corn and fried chicken. Looking up at her aunt she thanked her before turning back to the food that turned her stomach. It wasn't that she didn't want it because it smelled like a slice of heaven, but her stomach was tied in knots and she was afraid that she would end up throwing it all back up if she ate.

Once her aunt was sitting with them, she looked at the two hands that were now lying on the table by her, confused as to what the hell they were doing. Looking at her uncle, she just cocked a brow at him, waiting for him to explain.

Marshal smirked at her a little, "Your Mamma might not have made you, but in this house we say grace before eating."

Swallowing a groan at that, she set her fork back on the table and took hands with them, following their lead and closing her eyes and bowing her head as her uncle said grace. Repeating 'Ah, men' once he was done, Isabella pick her fork back up and began to poke at her potatoes but not ever taking a bite.

"You alright, Sugar?"

Head popping up at the question, Isabella looked at her Aunt with slightly wide eyes before nodding, "Yeah, I'm fine. This smells wonderful, Aunt Steffy; thank you."

Her uncle Marsh seemed to beam with pride when he turned to his wife, "you just wait till you taste it, Isa-Bee; You in for a treat. Your Aunt's chicken was voted best in three counties."

Isabella looked at her uncle with wide eyes before looking back at her slightly blushing aunt, "Really?"

Steff waved a dismissive hand in the air, "It ain't nothin' special."

Scoffing a little, Isabella looked at her aunt, "Yea it is. Aunt Steffy, that is amazing."

Marshal snorted, "That ain't nothin'. Her pecan pie won this year's state fair. Her pie beat out over fifty others."

Giving her aunt a huge smile, Isabella gushed, "congratulations Aunt Steffy. Good for you."

Steff waved a hand to fan her burning face, "lands sake you two, it's only food. Now, hush, the both of ya, and eat your damn diner."

Things settled into easy conversation after that and once Isabella actually took a bite, she realized just how hungry she really was and ended up asking for seconds. It really was some good fucking chicken.

Once dinner was done, Marshal showed Isabella to her new room while Steff cleaned up the mess, stopping to point out the bathroom and linen closet where she would find towels and rags. Once he got to the door of her room, there was a look of trepidation on his face as he rested his hand on the knob, "when we talked to your mamma about you stayin' here, she wasn't a real big help in tellin' us what you liked and didn't. Since you gonna be here a time, you're certainly welcome to do what you will with it."

Nodding to him, Isabella glanced in the room when he finally opened the door, her breath catching in her throat a bit at the sight… in a good way. Three walls were a robin's egg blue while there was a very bold, dark royal blue on the remaining wall where a cheery wood framed bed was centered with a nightstand on either side where her suitcases waited for her. There was a desk under one of the two windows with a padded bench under the other. There was a rocking chair in the far corner with a little table and lamp next to it. The bedding was a striking metallic blue and different color shapes and designs embroidered on it. There was no dresser in the room and she found out why when she opened the closet door… it was fucking huge with built in shelving and cupboards. It was perfect.

She turned to still see her uncle leaning on the door jam, watching her as she explored her new dwelling, that same almost scared look in his eyes. He cleared his throat a little and rubbed the back of his neck, "I know it ain't much, Isa-Bee, but…"

Isabella darted across the room and through her arms around his neck, squeezing the shit out of him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Pulling back and giving him a radiant smile, "It's perfect Uncle Marsh. Thank you so much."

Finally giving her one of his real smiles, Marshal ruffled her hair a bit before turning from the room, "you go'n and git settled in Isa-Bee. I suggest you get some sleep, punken. We got church in the mornin'."

This time Isabella did groan a little. "Oh come on, Uncle Marsh. Haven't you ever heard of jet lag? Besides, Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest."

Marshal chuckled a little as he closed her door behind him, "cock crows early, Sug."

Isabella gagged at little at the closed door, "Oh, gross. I really didn't need to know that you fuck my aunt early in the morning." Then she crossed her arms, "isn't it a sin to get laid on Sunday?" Giving her head a little shake, she turned and went to her suitcase to grab her shower stuff and pajamas before heading off to get a shower and get for bed.

 ***X***

Lying in bed a little over an hour later, Isabella just laid there staring at the ceiling, her mind refusing to go silent and letting her get some sleep. Her thoughts were flying a mile a minute and wouldn't be thwarted no matter what she did. She thought about her friends that she knew she wasn't going to see again for a very long time, if ever again. She thought about the job she left and her heart constricted a little. It wasn't the job itself, it was everything she put into it, how far she climbed the ladder completely on her own. She put everything she had into it and lost it all… all because of a jackass she should have known better than to get involved with.

Rolling onto her side, her eyes went distant as he surfaced in her mind's eye. She pictured his perfect face, his tousled penny colored hair that he never did anything with but it always looked fuckhot. His eyes that looked like sea foam with specks of gold.

She had met Edward in high school and had an instant connection though they didn't start dating until their second year of college. In the beginning, it was perfect. He was just the right amount of clingy to make her feel wanted without feeling smothered. He was soft and caring, loving and gentle. He was her best friend. Things were beyond imagining for so long; so, so long. Then, everything changed.

 **Flashback**

 _She had gone to visit her father for a long weekend from school since it had been nearly a year since she had had the time since she had taken summer courses to graduate early. While she was there, she had met up with some old friends from high school and went out to the bar._

 _It was there that the turning point in her life had started._

 _A very old family friend was out celebrating his 21st birthday with some of the other guys that she had known since they were all kids. She had excused herself from the group she had come with to go over and buy him a drink as she had promised she would the last time she saw him… when he asked her to buy him a bottle since he wasn't old enough to do so on his own quite yet. There was no way to know that he was already hammered since she hadn't talked to him yet. She expected drunk because she knew that particular group of natives VERY well, but not sloshed like he was._

 _When she reached the table to say hi and ask what he wanted to drink, Jake had cheered at the sight of her before leaping from his chair, grabbing her by the back of the neck and pulling her to him, crashing his lips to hers in what was the wettest, sloppiest kiss she had ever been a part of. With wide eyes, she tried to push him away but the damage had already been done._

 _One of the guys that she had gone out with was on the football team with Edward and they were still homeboys. The moment he saw her with her lips locked with some other guy, he had pulled out his phone, taken a picture and sent it off to Edward without ever waiting on an explanation on what the fuck that was. Man, did he feel like shit when as soon as he hit send she kneed Jake in the balls before laying into him about how she had a boyfriend and that was completely fucking uncalled for. However, not bad enough to tell her he did that though so she could head it off at the pass, call Edward and explain it to him THEN instead of looking like she was trying to hide it from him._

 _That was the first time he hit her._

 _She had gotten back from her trip, all excited to see him at the airport only to be disappointed that he wasn't there. So she took a cab home and called him once she got to her dorm. He was already there waiting. Not expecting anything to be wrong, she had ran as fast as she could through the halls to her room, threw the door open and darted into his arms… or tried to anyways._

 _She remembered the look in his eyes and on his face when she looked up at him to ask what was wrong, the coldness there. It still send ice down her spine. His voice was dark, flat when he finally spoke, "Do you have anything you want to tell me, Love?"_

 _She had blinked at the cruelty in his tone but couldn't think of a thing other than how much she missed him, and told him as much. She would never forget how badly the back of his hand felt against her cheek or the growl that seemed to take over his voice when he spoke to her again and the fear that flooded her chest as she looked up at him from the floor._

 _"Do NOT lie to me, Isabella. I saw it. I saw the fucking picture of you being a goddamn whore with that piece of shit from the reservation." He had walked, well more like stalked, over to her before crouching down and grabbing a handful of her hair, yanking it back so she would look in his eyes, crying out from the pain in her scalp. His face was dark and dangerous, his voice quiet and full of promise, "You are mine, do you understand me? If you so much as ever LOOK at another man again, I will rip your fucking eyes out. You belong to me and I swear to god, if ANY man EVER touches you like that again, I will kill him. Do you understand me you little bitch?"_

 _Her body was vibrating with fear as she tried to nod, her voice so soft that it was nearly lost to wind, "Yes, I understand Edward."_

 _The smirk on his perfect face was nothing but that of a demon as he stared at her for a second before shoving her away from him by the grip he still had on her hair. As he stood, he looked down his nose at her, "Good girl. We have reservations for dinner tonight at 6."_

 _Then he left without another word._

 **End flashback**

Sniffling softly and wiping the tears from her cheeks, Isabella rolled over and curled into a ball as other times he abused her assaulted her. There were so many and every one was worse than the last. For six months it went on and over that time she had gotten broken ribs, cuts, bruises, broken arms and sprained wrists. Sure, she had tried to defend herself a few times in the beginning, who the fuck wouldn't? But she was ten inches shorter than he was and about a hundred or more pounds lighter; she never really stood a chance in hell against him. The last time Edward was physical like that with her was the first time she tried to leave, and that was the reason she was where she was now.

 **Flashback**

 _Family and friends had come up for graduation… and that had included Jake. She tried to keep her distance, tried her damnedest to not get too close to him and stuck by Edward's side the whole time. That wasn't the world's best plan she knew, but it was the only one she had to work with when she saw him come into the room with her dad. Thankfully Jake had gone over to the buffet nearly immediately so she was able to go say hi to her dad and it not look like something it wasn't._

 _Everything was going well and she was having so much fun that she had forgotten, for only a moment, that nothing was alright and said hi to Jake when he had come over with her father when they were getting ready to leave. She honestly hadn't given it a thought at that one moment. She really should have._

 _Edward had ended up seeing them._

 _It was three hours later that they had left the party, her still on her happy high of finally graduating college, getting to see everyone and knowing that in only a few days she would be off to the other side of the world on a vacation that her parents had gone in on together for her._

 _She didn't see the warning signs until it was too late._

 _Once they got back to the apartment that they had gotten together, the second the door closed, she found herself slammed into the wall with an irate Edward in her face, sneering and glaring at her. All she could do was stare back, uncomprehending as to what she had done to cause this. Fear flooded her being as he continued to look in her eyes, a sick, twisted satisfaction entering his eyes at the terror in hers._

 _Time seemed to crawl in slow motion as she saw his hand come up only to speed up as that hand came flying at her face, connecting and snapping her head to the side and back into the wall, a cry ripping from her lips that she couldn't silence if she tried._

 _She didn't remember hitting the floor but looking up from the middle of the living room carpet she took a guess at how she got there. Wide eyed and terrified, she stared at Edward from her position as he continued to glare at her. Lips trembling she tried to get her tongue to work, to ask what brought on his anger this time, but she never got the chance._

 _A blood curdling scream ripped from her throat as Edward dove at her. She scrambled back, but wasn't fast enough to get completely out of the way. She dug her fingers into the carpet when she felt Edward grab her ankle. She jerked against him, trying to get free but felt herself get drug back._

 _She couldn't describe the feeling of petrification that gripped her, she couldn't tell anyone how terrified she had been of the look in his wild eyes when she looked over her shoulder. She didn't know what it was that came over her in that moment, but she rolled to her back and used the foot that wasn't in his grip and kicked with everything she had. The sole of her shoe connected with his forehead. It wasn't what she was aiming for, but it had the desired effect. He let her go and she took her chances, rolling to her feet and getting out of the house before she got really hurt. She got out the door. She got to the end of the balcony. She got to the top of the steps._

 _That was as far as she got._

 _She felt his hand grab her by the hair and yank her back from her only exit point before she hit the concrete walkway. She screamed again when she felt her shoulder crack before the side of her head met the pavement._

 _She must have lost her sight for a minute or two because when she looked up, she expected to see Edward over her, but it wasn't him. It was one of the guys that lived on the floor below them that she had seen at the mailbox a time or two. She saw his lips moving but couldn't hear the word coming out of his mouth. She saw the anger and concern warring in his eyes but couldn't react to it._

 _She did however jump a mile out of her skin when he touched her though._

 _All the sound that was muted was now roaring in her ears as the reality of the situation crashed into her. She tried to push herself up a sitting position, crying out when the shoulder that was popped out of its socket was moved. When the guy, Matt she thought, reached to help her, she jerked back out of reflex, looking at him in complete terror._

 _He gave her an nonthreatening smile and held his hand up, "I'm not going to hurt_ _you, Sweetheart. I'm just going to help you sit up." He had moved with exaggerated slowness pausing a little right before he touched her, and gently slid an arm under her ribs and pulled her into a sitting position, keeping hold of her when she swayed a bit. He had dipped his head to catch her eyes and when she saw her looking back at him, he spoke quietly, "We heard you scream. The police are on their way." Then he broke off eye contact and glanced over his shoulder at his roommate that had taken it upon himself to restrain the son of a bitch before turning back to Isabella, "do you think you can walk?"_

 _Blinking and confused, she just looked at him, no understanding what was going on at the moment. All she knew was that her shoulder hurt, her head hurt and her face was killing her. When she didn't say anything, the guy sighed a little before changing how he was holding on to her, slipping an arm under her bent knees and the other behind her back and, being extremely mindful of her shoulder, lifted her from the ground into his arms and carried her down to the other end of the walkway to the other set of steps and down into the courtyard._

 _As he was setting her down on one of the benches, one of the other tenants made their way over having heard the commotion from the rescue. "Is everything alright?"_

 _Both she and Matt turned to the new voice, the surfacing bruise on her face catching the old lady's attention, Matt seeing it out of the corner of his eye again. He turned back her for a second before looking at his neighbor, "I think she's in shock, Miss Adams. Can you get her a glass of water?" Once the old lady went to fetch a bottle of water from her fridge, Matt turned back to her, snapping his fingers in front of her face to see the reaction it had._

 _She screamed and jerked away, nearly falling backwards off the bench._

 _Matt caught her before that could happen, apologized and told her that everything was going to alright now, told her that she was safe. She didn't even know what that word meant any more. She would never be safe again._

 _While she was in her own little world, Matt was looking up at the balcony where his roommate had the son of bitch pinned to the ground, holding his face to the hard and unforgiving concrete by the fucked up hair on his head with a knee in his back. Patrick's mother was in this kind of relationship for years and Pat didn't play that fucking game. He took a massive amount of pleasure in beating the shit out of guys that got their rocks off hitting a woman that was half their size, much like the girl he was tending to was in comparison to the guy that was making out with the floor. It was five minutes later that they heard the sounds of the sirens coming down their street._

 **End flashback**

Isabella brought her hand up to her face, gently touching the cheek that was still bruised and tender from the hit she took that was hard enough to crack the bone.

Seven minutes. It took them seven minutes to get to the apartment after the 911 call was made and she shuddered to think about what might have happened had Matt and Patrick not been home that night. She had been taken to the hospital, treated and released that night.

She had called Jake to pick her up.

The next morning she was in a courtroom for Edward's arraignment on charges of domestic violence and assault 1. She was granted a restraining order. He was granted bail. An hour later, he was nowhere to be found. Two hours after that she was on a plane to the middle of BFE Texas to stay with her mother's brother that Edward didn't know about in a small little town that no one ever heard of until Edward was found.

Since the charges were not that severe in the overall eyes of the law, no one was hoping for a manhunt to last for more than a day or two, not with murders and rapists running around the country. Plus, Edward had the means to be just about anywhere by the time that he was discovered to have run. Her father had some friends that owned him a favor or two from his time on the force, so he was able to call some of those in and get Edward's face on the news a few times before they too would stop.

She had to leave everything back home that could be used to find her. Her car, credit cards, cell phone. She only had her money because she closed her account and got cash instead of a cashier's check. She lost everything while he was probably lying on a fucking beach somewhere.

Isabella sighed as she hugged herself tighter. She was here by her own choice. She knew, without a doubt in her mind, that if Edward found her, he would kill her; restraining order be damned. Edward was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, raised to think he was better than everyone, above the law.

He would walk right through it and she would never walk again.

A rough sob shook her frame as more tears tracked down her cheeks. She had thought she was being quiet, that she couldn't be heard… she was wrong. There was only a short rap on the door for a warning before the door was open, the light from the hall flooding her room, illuminating her face and the horrendous discoloration of her skin that went from hairline to chin and ear to over her nose and she wasn't fast enough to hide before her aunt saw it.

Steff's hand came to her mouth to catch the gasp before she dropped it to her chest, "gracious Isa-Bee." Moving faster than she had ever known her aunt to move, Steff was sitting on the edge of her bed and pulling her into her arms, holding her tight to her chest.

Isabella was, at that point, tired of trying to be strong anymore. Fisting her hands in a white knuckle grip on her aunt's nightgown, she broke down, crying hard, body shaking sobs.

Steff just held her niece tightly to her, running her fingers through her hair and down her back, letting her get it all out, rocking her back and forth like she did when the girl was just a tiny tike. It had been over fifteen years since the last time she had seen Isa-Bee and this was the very last reason she would have ever wanted too. She turned to the doorway at the feeling of being watched and saw her husband standing there, his normally bright, sky blue eyes darker than the deepest part of the ocean. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen him so angry, or even if she ever had. This little angel in her arms was his sugar, his little Isa-bee. She couldn't even imagine what he was feeling at the moment as his only niece bawled like a babe in her arms over something that should NEVER have occurred.

Both of them knew there was more to the story than what they were told when they were called out of the blue to find out if she could stay with them for a while but neither one of them had any intention of asking her about it. If it came out that was one thing, but by the sight of her face, they were not going to be the ones to cause her even more pain that she was in.

Isabella cried in her aunt's arms for what felt like ages before she finally ended up crying herself to sleep. Steff held her a few moments longer before very slowly and carefully laying her down and pulling her covers up to her chin. Brushing her bangs out of her face, she bent down and kissed her forehead softly so she didn't hurt her before standing and leaving the room, closing the door behind her.

Leaning back against it, she closed her eyes and sighed lightly before looking at her husband, "What are we gonna do for that girl, Marshal?"

Looking to the ceiling, asking God for the patience of a saint, he looked at his wife a short moment before nodding down the hall to their room, "We gonna let her rest for as long as she wants for now, figure things out better than that later when we ain't so upset."

As Steff walked with her husband to go to bed, her head snapped up to look at him, "what about church?"

Cocking a brow at his wife, "How many time you think that girl asked God for help and it never came? If she gits out of bed early enough and wants to go then fine, but I ain't about to be forcing her to do nothin' she don't wanna, ya hear? You ain't either. She got enough shit on her plate to deal with, she don't be needin' that too."

 ***X***

The next morning, a very groggy and drained Isabella was pulled out of the land of dreams but the mouthwatering aroma of cinnamon. Pushing herself up, wincing slightly at the protest of her still hurt shoulder, she took a breath of the scent she missed like you wouldn't believe.

Aunt Steff's homemade from scratch sticky buns.

All but leaping out of bed, she grabbed her brush and darted to the bathroom to take care of business, using the brush to style her hair in a way to cover the worst of the bruise. The way she figured it, they had seen it last night so there was no reason to spend forever covering it with make up when this would take care of the worst of it. Plus, those sticky buns where the fucking bomb right out of the oven. She just hoped that they were still within ten minutes of getting taken out. That was when they were her favorite.

Thundering down the steps, she slid across the wood floors into the dining room, slipping on a rug but catching herself before she fell before continuing on into the kitchen just in time to see her Aunt pull a try out. Bouncing on the tips of her toes, she squealed out loud before shouting, "I call the center bun!"

Her aunt's laughter rang out in the kitchen as she turned to look at her niece, taking in the childlike excitement over something so simple as the center sticky bun. Smiling wide, "Mercy, Punken, it's just a…"

Isabella was already shaking her head, "It isn't JUST anything but the greatest thing in the whole world, Aunt Steffy." Then her bangs flew up her forehead, "wait, Uncle Marsh didn't call it did he? I swear I'll piss in his Wheaties if he called my sticky bun."

There was a deep laugh behind her calling her attention, her GLARING attention, over her shoulder at her uncle was standing leaning a hip on the counter, "You'll do what now, Isa-bee?"

Isabella cocked a brow at her uncle, "I said I'll piss in your Wheaties if you called my sticky bun."

Snorting hard and shaking his head, he waved his hand to the tray, "You're Aunt Steffy baked them up special for you, Sug. That whole batch is yours."

Squealing like a pig in heat, she whipped back around and pounced on her aunt, repeatedly kissing her cheek and saying 'thank you' between every one before grabbing a plate off the counter, grabbing the tongs and fishing out her favorite one before the time of perfection passed.

Once she had it out and took her first bit of it, Marshal cleared his throat a bit to call her attention to him. Once he had it, "Your aunt and I are gonna be headin' off to church here in a few minutes. If you rather not go, that's just fine."

Pausing with her teeth half way through the sticky bun, she thought about it for a moment before taking her bite. Once she swallowed she looked at her uncle, "I would really rather not."

Giving her an understanding smile, Marshal nodded, "well, maybe next week?"

Doubtful, she thought but still smiled back, "maybe next week."


	2. Chapter 2

Days turned into weeks and those turned into the marking of her first month in the middle of nowhere, bored out of her fucking mind. The only thing worth mentioning that happened during that time was the bruise on her had faded enough that she didn't need to use as much cover up to hide it. There was still discoloration because she was so pale, but it wasn't so black it put a sharpie to shame anymore. It was that really annoying yellow ocher color with a green tent. Good thing too because she was out of liquid based concealer and refused to go out in public to get more until it couldn't be seen at all.

Best laid plans never go according to plan for her however.

She was curled up on the porch swing reading a book when her uncle came out and took a seat next to her and patted her leg. Finishing the sentence she was reading, she put her book down and smiled at him, "Hey Uncle Marsh. What's up?"

Rubbing the back of his neck a few times, Marshal looked over at his niece, "well, your aunt and I are goin' to the show this afternoon and we want you to come with us."

Blanching at the thought knowing that he was referring to the rodeo that they have been talking about for the last week and not a movie, she shook her head a little, "Uncle Marsh…"

He cut her off, "you been cooped up in this house a month now, Isa-bee. It's about time you went out and did somethin'. There are plenty of kids your age 'round. I am sure that you will have no problem makin' nice with 'em."

Shaking her head a little, "That's not it, Uncle Marsh."

He cocked a challenging brow at her, "That so, now? Then tell me what it is, Isabella?"

Dropping her face into her palm knowing he was about to get pissed off because that was the only time he used her actual name. Sighing hard, she looked back up at him, "It's just not my thing, Uncle Marsh."

Crossing his arms and leaning back onto the arm of the swing, "Really now? You ever been to one?" Seeing both the defeat in her eyes and the shake of her head, he cocked his, "Then how you know? Honestly Isa-bee, you actin' like your life is over and in truth, you the one keepin' yourself from livin', Child. Think about it. We're leavin' in an hour."

Dropping her head back on the headrest of the swing, Isabella closed her eyes and sighed. It wasn't like she was against spending time with her aunt and uncle outside the house. It was that she was out of the necessary items to cover the fucking evidence that she was a fucking idiot and an hour wasn't enough time to both get ready to go AND go the nearest bigger town to the store to get it. It was one or the other and since she didn't have transportation, she was gonna just have to cover it with her hair and pray there was no wind today.

Yeah, 'cause praying got you anywhere. Her luck, the wind would be gale force.

With heavy feet, she trudged inside and up the steps to her room to figure out what the hell you ever wear to a fucking rodeo. Knowing from just being out there that it was hot as shit outside, she went with a pleated jean skirt and a white tank top that showed way more skin than she wanted but she was lazy over the last month and didn't take her dirty clothes down stairs to get them washed like her aunt kept telling her to. It wasn't that it was way low cut or anything, but it was normally used as a pajama top so it only came down to under her ribs and above her belly button. Not knowing what kind of literal shit was going to be lying on the ground, she opted for socks and her ratty old sneakers so she didn't ruin her good tennis shoes.

Once all that was figured out, she went and got a shower. No need to smell like shit just because you were going to be around it.

After she got out, she blow dried her hair straight then went hunting for her red bandanna to use to keep her hair in place once she got it to lay right over her face. There wasn't any way to do her hair that would cover it all, but she was able to cover most of it, well, the worst of it which was right over her cheekbone. All she could think as she walked down the steps forty-five minutes later was thankfully the swelling mostly went away and you had to be relatively close to see it now.

She dug through her purse that was on the dining room table for some cash and her I.D. on the off chance that there was going to be alcohol for sale because she wasn't sure she could make it through this sober. After slipping that into her bra, she gave herself a once over in the mirror in the entryway and decided it was as good as it was gonna get, grabbed a jacket out of the closet and left out the front door to meet up with her aunt and uncle who were waiting outside for her.

The ride to the fairgrounds was both quiet and uneventful. She didn't want to be there and the older adults knew it so neither of them pressed her to talk or try to get her excited about it.

Once there, Isabella followed her aunt and uncle through the crowd to the ticket booth and then to the arena set up in the very center of the grounds and finally to the stands so she knew where they were going to be because she, thankfully, saw a beer vendor. After leaving them with her jacket and telling them where she was going and asking if they wanted anything, she was off to get some liquid comfort.

It didn't take her horribly long to find the stand again but the waiting in line sure as fuck did. Looks like she isn't the only one that couldn't sit through this sober. Good to know that even the locals needed beer to enjoy this, made her feel a little better.

She was three people from the front when there was the most god awful annoying voice behind her. "Lord have mercy, did you see him? I swear that he gets hotter every time I see him."

Okay, she was wrong. The NEXT voice was the most annoying thing she had ever heard. It was high pitched and nasally and just, yuck.

"HIM? Sweetie, did you see his brother? THAT man is god's gift to the world. This honey knows what I'm talkin' 'bout." Then, to her horror, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Looking to the sky and asking for something, ANY thing to not hit the bitch, Isabella glanced over her shoulder and had to work at swallowing the groan that was crawling up her throat. There before her was a blonde chick that really needed a root touch up with what had to be the WORST implant job she had ever seen; and she was from Cali. Moving her eyes just a tad, she then saw a legal midget with black hair that was sticking up all over the place like the short shit shoved a fork in an electrical outlet.

Looking back at the one that was looking at her like they were best friends, she cocked a brow, "Yeah?"

The blonde pointed a thumb at the midget, "tell this little tart that Peter is SO much hotter than Jasper." When all Isabella did was blink at her, the blonde huffed a little, "Well, alright, I guess they look an awful lot alike being brothers and all, but Peter totally tops Jasper." Getting a pointed look, "Don't he?"

Blinking once again and for lack of anything else to say, Isabella just gave a little shrug as she heard 'Next' called and it was her turn, "Yeah, sure. He's sex on legs." Turning back to the counter, she gave the worker an imploring look, "the biggest beer you got, please."

The guy smirked at her and asked to see her I.D.. While looking at it, "Have a little too much fun at the shindig last night, Sugar?" Not knowing what the fuck he was talking about but not really wanting to get ask why she wanted that much beer without a reason, she said yes and took her I.D. back and handed him a ten for the glass of beer, telling him to keep the change. "Much obliged, Ma'am. You enjoy yourself now."

Not likely. Smiling at the guy, "I will, thanks." Moving out of the way and around the side of the stand, Isabella brought the cup to her lips and started chugging, drinking a quarter of it so it didn't spill as she was walking.

As she was about to start looking for a place to get her aunt and uncle the requested hot dogs, the most annoying creature ever born started talking again. "I didn't see you at the party last night."

Lifting her eyes and seeing the hazel eyes of the bottle blonde again, she just shrugged a bit, "didn't see you either. Guess that makes us even, doesn't it?"

The bottle blonde narrowed her eyes a little at her, "I don't reckon I ever seen you before ANY where."

Isabella winked, "new in town. Not really a shocker that you haven't seen me around."

The bottle blonde blinked once before she broke out in a wide grin and held out a hand, "Oh, well, sorry, Sugar. Welcome to town. I'm Char."

Isabella looked at the hand presented to her a second before looking back to at her face, "Good for you. Excuse me." She never did have a lot of tolerance for fakes.

As she was turning to walk away, Char scoffed a loud noise, "Oh, hell naw. You don't just dismiss me like that."

One thing about being in an abusive relationship, you get kick ass reflexes. Plus, the stupid bitch was a little top heavy. Stepping to the side a twisting a little, Isabella was able to avoid the sneak attack from behind. Instead of getting tackled, she stood there and watched as Char basically dove face first into the dirt, grunting rather loud when she hit.

The midget ran to her friend's side and crouched down next to her asking in a high pitched voice that hurt Isabella's ears is she was alright before turning on her with a glare, "You fuckin' bitch. What the hell did you do that for?"

Isabella just blinked once before glowering, "I didn't even fucking touch her, you stupid mutant midget. She came after me half-cocked and ready to explode, not the other way around. Now, as I said, excuse me."

Turning on her heel, she walked away before the problem could escalate anymore. 'Make nice with 'em my ass, Uncle Marsh'. Taking her time, Isabella walked along the different booths and drank her beer, seeing what was there while she hunted down the elusive creature called a hot dog vender. When she was about three quarters of the way down the path of stalls, she happened to look over and her heart stopped, her beer hitting the ground. There, not fifteen feet from her was her worst nightmare come true… looking right back at her.

She watched in absolute terror as his eyes lit up even as that dark, cruel smirk that she would never forget pulled his lips apart, showing the perfect teeth on the other side. The voice that used to melt her into a puddle froze her blood in her veins as it caressed her ears like a long lost lover, "Well, hello, Love. I have been looking all over for you."

Tears prickled her eyes as he took a step towards her, but she was able to squeak out, "how?"

The crooked smile darkened just a little and his eyes brightened all the more at the fear in her voice. "The computer is a wonderful device. We never got to finish our little talk. I think we should do that, now."

What got her feet moving was when she saw his hand began to raise. Pivoting on point, she darted off like a bullet from a gun back the way she came. She bobbed and weaved through the masses, never pausing but glanced over her shoulder, whimpering when she saw he was following her. The only thing she had on her side was the one that that had always worked against her before; her size. She was so much smaller in comparison that she was able to squeeze through spots that he wasn't.

Turning back to look where she was going, she skidded to a stop when she saw the two girls from the beer stand straight ahead of her looking like two pissed off princesses, and she knew they were looking for her. Whimpering again, she looked back over her shoulder and saw Edward closing the distance she was able to put between them faster than she could think of a plan. It was then that the tears broke the dam she built over the last month. Glancing to the side of her, she saw a path between the vendor stands so she pushed off with her left foot and lunged to the right, twisting around and running again. She wasn't sure if the two girls saw her or not, but she knew that Edward saw where she went. All she had to do was regain lost ground and then find a place to hide for a little while before making the attempt to find her aunt and uncle to get the fuck out of there.

She hadn't seen anyone on the path when she took it, so she kept her head down, watching where she was going so she didn't trip over roots or cords. Turning to look over her shoulder again, she saw Edward take the turn and was behind her again, a glare on his face.

Then he yelled, shooting ice water down her spine, "get back here, Isabella!"

Since she was looking behind her, she didn't see that there were people in front of her now; so she slammed HARD into the back of the person standing there. So hard in fact that she was knocked backwards onto her back, her bandana long since gone in her mad dash and the guy she hit was knocked forward and would have probably fell on his face had he not had someone in front of him to stop that from happening.

Peter whirled around with a 'what the fuck' after his brother got him steady on his feet and saw a guy that looked about his age slide to a stop but ignored him for a minute, looking down to see who it was that ran into him. What he saw would haunt him for the longest time, he was sure of it. There was nothing but a tiny little thing pushing herself up into a lounging position from laying herself out from running into him. That wasn't the part that tore at him, it was the look on her face when she glanced up to see what happened… that and what he saw ON her face.

There were tears flowing like a river down her face, falling from eyes that were full of the purest fear he had ever seen in his life. What had his attention however, was the nearly healed bruise that took over, over half her face. That was when he lifted only his eyes back up to get another look at the guy that was now backing away from the scene. It took a second, but it then clicked where he knew that face from. He had seen a clip on the news about a month ago about a woman beater that skipped town after his daddy posted his bail when he was Vegas.

That mother fucker.

Talking in a quiet voice to his brother so that the son of a bitch couldn't hear him, "Jazz, 'member that sumbitch from the news last month, the one from Cali that jumped bail; Collin, Cullen; what the fuck ever his name was?"

Jasper looked up from the girl that just could not seem to get her bearings to his brother, "yeah, why?"

Peter nodded at Edward as he continued to back away, "that's 'im." Then he put his cigarette between his lips and held out a hand, "hand me my rifle. Imma shoot 'im."

Shrugging a shoulder, Jasper picked up the gun he dropped in lieu of catching his brother and smacked it against Peter's palm, "Don't miss."

Twirling the rifle around into a better grip and, after cocked it loaded, he raised the barrel to take aim, "Never do."

Edward heard the 'cock' of the shotgun and, narrowly avoiding pissing himself, pivoted on his heel and bolted. Just before he reached the crowd, he heard a deep baritone voice covered in a thick southern twang, "you better run, Boy. Iffen I see ya again, I pull the fuckin' trigger."

Shaking his head and sneering in absolute disgust, Peter handed his gun back to his brother, who wasted no time uncocking it, and grunted, taking his smoke from his mouth and crossing his arms, "fuckin' pussy. Ain't no bigger weaklin' in the world than a man that can hit a lady and not take his licks in return."

Jasper snorted and crossed his arms, "You was aimin' to kill 'im, Pete. You expected different?"

Peter shook his head and glanced back at him, "I said I was gonna shoot 'im. Didn't say nothin' 'bout killin' 'im."

Jasper rolled his eyes and gave his brother a flat look, "You was gonna kill 'im."

Peter just smirked, "I was prolly gonna kill 'im." Then he turned his attention to the little lady that was still on the ground trying to figure out what happened. Taking one last hit, he flicked his cigarette butt into the dirt a few feet away and crouched down into a squatting position, "Hey there, Little Darlin'; you alright?"

Distant eyes looked up at him, seeing but not. She was still crying something fierce, whimpering like a wounded pup every now and then tearing his heart to pieces with every sound she made. When she spoke, her voice was airy, confused; "Patrick?"

A small smile pulled at his lips, "Close, Little Darlin'. I'm Peter" then he nodded backwards, "and this here's my brother Jasper." Peter watched as she tried to connect the dots but, somewhere between the fear and more than likely a crack on the back of the head from falling, something was getting lost for her. Pursing his lips a little, he tilted his head a bit, "what's your name, Little Darlin'?"

She blinked and tripped over her tongue a few times, but was finally able to answer that for him, "Isabella."

Nodding to her, he then looked over his shoulder at Jasper, "find a security guard or stable hand and have 'em go to the announcer's booth. Tell 'em to make one and have whoever she came with taken to the stables. I'll get her there."

Jasper nodded and was about to head off and do that when Peter stopped him, "leave my gun."

It had taken nearly ten minutes to get the little thing to the stable she was so out of it. In the end, Peter ended having to carry her, his rifle tucked under the arm that was under her knees.

When he got there, he asked for one of the paramedics and went over to his truck, took the tailgate down and, propping a foot on it first to help hold the little lady in his arm, he took his gun out from under his arm and set it on the gate before shifting his hold on the girl and sitting her down on it as well before picking his rifle back up. He was absolutely dead serious about shooting the fucker if he happened to see him again.

He leaned a hip against the side of his truck, gun across his shoulders with his arms draped over it, and crossed his ankles as they waited for the medical personnel to show up. His best guess was she was in shock and he was still pretty sure she got knocked for a doozie when she ran into him. For as small as she is, he was amazed that she had nearly succeeded in taking HIM to the ground too. Hell, she would have had Jasper not been there. He was at least a full foot taller than her and probably outweighed her by a hundred pounds; give or take a few. She would be lucky to weight 120 and he was 230; solid.

Turning his head to look at her, he got a great shot of her profile and from where he was standing, he could see there was still swelling. No, not a lot but it was noticeable if you were close enough and at the right angle. The thing that got him was that was at least a month old and wasn't fully healed yet.

He was pulled back to the stables by a hand asking him if he needed anything. Glancing at the little lady again, he nodded to her, "get her a Coke." Once the hand was off to grab the girl something to drink, he moved from the side of his truck and crouched down in front of her again, moving his gun from his shoulders to between his bent knees and grasped it with both hands, and looked up at her, trying to catch her eyes. They were still distant and full of fear and confusion, but she had finally seemed to stop crying. Thank fuckin' god too 'cause ladies and tears was somethin' he couldn't handle.

As he was getting ready to talk to her, she beat him to it, but her voice was still quiet and unsure, "thank you."

Peter smiled at her, "weren't nothin' Little Darlin'. Just 'member this now; the sun don't shine on the same dog's tail all the time."

She blinked at him a few times before speaking again, "What does that mean?"

Smile growing a little more, "means that boy is gonna get everythin' he deserves someday."

She lowered her eyes from his and he found himself a tad upset at that, then she snorted softly, "karma, right?"

He took a deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly, humming a bit while he did, "Karma, Little Darlin', takes a coon's age to catch up to someone. What I said pertains to the closer future than that."

Nodding a little, her eyes then moved to the gun he was using to hold himself up, "would you really have shot him?"

There was no hesitation at all on Peter's part when he nodded, "you bet your ass I would've. I'll break any fucker that raises a hand to a lady with no regret and damn the consequences of it. My mama raised me to respect and cherish a lady and those that mistreat 'em, don't deserve the life God gave 'em."

She shook her head and sighed a little, "They sure don't make guys like that where I come from."

Before he had a chance to say anything back to her, there was a shout of Isabella, scaring a shriek of terror out of her and causing her to shove herself back into the truck bed, and in response to that, Peter cocked his rifle again and, in a motion as fluid as water in a stream, stood and turned, raising the barrel and taking aim.

Seeing that it was his brother with a security guard and two older adults, he raised the barrel and flipped the safety back on before stepping to the side so the little lady could see who it was that called for her, but her eyes had once again gone completely out of focus.

While the girl's aunt and uncle went over to the truck, Jasper went straight to his brother, grabbing the barrel of the rifle and yanked it out of his hand, "you grounded boy. You ever point this at me again and I shove it up your ass, ya hear?"

Peter just rolled his eyes as he lit a cigarette. Taking a hit and blowing out the smoke, "you the dumb fuck that left it with me."

"You asked me too."

"You listened."

"Mr. Whitlock?"

Both boys looked behind them at the medic standing there and responded at the same time, "yeah?"

When Peter saw who it was though, he jerked his head at his truck, "It's the Little Lady in the bed." Once he was heading the right direction, Peter turned back to Jasper, "and I ain't fuckin' grounded."

Jasper just rolled his eyes at him before they both turned their attention to the spring chicken that was about to crawl out of her skin. She wasn't putting up a fight or anything but she wasn't really making it easy for the medic to check her out either.

The older gentleman that came over with Jasper turned to the brothers a second before glancing to his niece. Making up his mind, he turned back to the boys and walked over to them, gratefulness in his eyes when he held a hand out to Peter, "Much obliged, Son, that you helped my niece."

Peter smiled at him as he clasped the man's hand in the grip his Pa taught him when he was a kid. "As I told the little lady, Sir, weren't nothin'. My momma would beat me with a switch had I stood there an' done nothin'."

A respectful light lit in Marshal's eyes at that, "I reckon you right, but thanks just the same." He looked at the boys hard for a minute before something clicked in his mind, "You Jim and Bev's boys, ain't cha?" At their nods, he smiled wide, "I ain't seen ya'll two since you was knee high to short Indian." Then he looked over his shoulder at his wife, seeing her looking back at him with an expectant look and crossing his arms, "you boys gonna be in town long?"

Peter looked over at his brother a moment before looking back, "couple days at least I reckon. Gotta spend some time with mama 'fore we head back on out or face the hand of our Pa."

Still looking at his wife a minute longer, Marshal turned back to the boys, "my wife would skin me alive if I didn't invite ya'll over for dinner to thank ya proper for what ya'll did for our girl." That light in his eyes got a little brighter and full of amusement as he chucked, "if ya'll decline, ya'll git to be the ones to tell her."

Both boys paled no small amount at that. They looked at each other, easily read fear in their eyes. Never mind what their mama would do to them if they said no under the circumstances, they were far more afraid of what their daddy would for telling a lady no at all. What made it worse is it would seem the guy knew it, too.

Peter gulped hard before turning back to the girl's kin and nodded, "thank ya kindly for the offer, Sir. We would be overly obliged to accept."

Marshal snorted, "Smart boy. You make your mama proud. Matter of fact, why don't ya'll bring her and your Pa with you tomorrow night. Haven't gotten to see them in coon's age."

A smile pulled at Peter's lip, despite the blackmail, at the mention of his mama. He was certainly the definition of a mama's boy and he would stomp anyone that thought less of him for it. "I'm sure they would be obliged as well, Sir."

It was then that there was a lady's voice in the conversation. "Marshal, the medic said we can take Isa-Bee home, now."

All three men turned to Steff as she stood over by Peter's truck with the still pale little lady who was drinking the Coke that Peter had asked a hand to get for her. She had her head propped up by her palm on her forehead, eyes closed as the medic took the arm cuff off her. There was a shiny sheen of sweat coating most of her skin and making the tank top that was tight anyways cling to her. She looked god awful at the moment and about a second from just passing out completely. A combination of absolute terror, exertion and the 115 degree temperature Peter was sure.

She was still fucking gorgeous though.

Peter glanced at his brother, "Rocky saddled up?" At the confused nod from Jasper, he explained, "I'ma give the lady a ride out. I doubt she can make it on her own."

Jasper looked at the girl as she swayed a little and nodded, "I'll git 'im. You just make sure you back in time, ya hear? You got ten minutes." Then he turned and jogged over to where Peter's horse was being tended to.

Peter watched after his brother and shook his head. He didn't give a damn if he missed one ride or was disqualified all together from the round completely.

Once Jasper came back with Peter's stallion, Peter took the reins and pulled the horse over to his truck so the lady wasn't walking much. Letting the reins go, he turned to the lady and crouched down in front of her again to catch her eyes. Once she was sorta focused on him, "Hey, Little Darlin. You ever rode a horse before?" When she shook her head, he nodded his. Looks like he was riding with her so she didn't fall. Giving her a smile, "well, first for everythin'."

Isabella glanced at the stallion behind him and her eyes went wide making Peter chuckle a bit as he looked back at Rocky. "I reckon he looks big," then he turned back to her, "but he ain't nothin' but a big ol' softy."

Then he stood up and held his hands out to her, pulling her to her feet when she put her hands in his. Clicking his tongue in command to the horse, he turned the lady to him and, lifting her up in one smooth motion, sat her side saddle on Rocky before putting his boot in a foothold and climbing up too, sitting behind her. After getting situated in the saddle, Peter wrapped an arm lightly around the little darlin' to keep her steady and used his free hand to pull at the horse's reins to turn him towards the exit.

Isabella was dizzy and the sway of the horse's walking was making her feel a little sick too, so she grabbed onto the arm that was around her stomach and pressed her face into the shoulder attached to the torso she was leaning heavily against. As mortified as she was about running into the man that didn't even seem to mind, she was even more so right at the moment because she was positive that he could feel her stomach rolling against his forearm. As she sat there, she prayed with everything she had that she didn't throw up all over the beautiful black horse… or the hot ass cowboy.

Peter glanced down at the lady when he felt her grab onto him and tightened his grip on her in response, pulling her a little closer to him and more centered to make the ride a little smoother for her. Lowering and softening his voice, his dipped his head a bit to whisper in her ear, "How ya doin' there, Little Darlin'?"

Her response was muffled and quiet, but he heard it nonetheless, "I feel sick."

Peter lifted his eyes and saw the parking lot coming into view and the girl's uncle pointing out where they were going. Turning his attention back to her, "Just breathe, Little Darlin'; almost there."

Pulling Rocky to a stop a few minutes later, Peter dismounted and set his hands on the little lady's waist to help keep her steady until her uncle got the truck door open. Once it was open, Peter lifted her off his horse like she weighed nothing more than a newborn puppy, setting her on her feet but held on for an extra moment when she grabbed his arms to keep her knees from giving out. Once they were both sure that she was gonna stay up, Peter helped her over to the truck, handling her inside like the southern gentleman his mama raised him to be before tipping his hat with a 'Ma'am' and doing the same for her aunt.

Steff looked at Peter with a smile, "well, ain't you just sweet as Pie, young man."

Peter just winked at her before closing the door and leaning on the open window, "What time should I tell Mama for?"

Steff hummed a moment before tisking, "howsabout, four?"

Peter nodded with a small smile, "I'll pass it along, Ma'am." Then he looked over at Marshal, "I'ma call my cousin, have him keep an eye on the farm tonight, 'case that boy don't listen for shit."

Marshal cocked a brow at him but didn't say anything before Peter went on, "he lives about a mile from ya'll these days. Just didn't want ya'll worried if ya'll git home and someone was there. That boy was dumb enough to pull that here, he dumb enough to just about anythin'… like not listen to someone that pointed a gun in his face."

Marshal just nodded at him in thanks as he turned the key and started up his truck. Before be backed out of his spot, he leaned forward and called to Peter as he was mounting his horse again, "You tell that Pa of yours that he owes me a bottle of whisky."

Peter snorted with a smirk, "I'll tell 'im but you know Pa." Then he kicked Rocky's ribs, making the horse rear up on his hind legs with a 'nay' before leaping into a full gallop heading back to the stables.

 ***X***

Sure enough, an hour later when they pulled into the drive there was a truck sitting by the porch. Pulling his to a stop next to it, Marshal got out and looked around, pausing in his search when a big son of a bitch came walking around the side of the house with a rifle over his shoulder.

Steff had gotten out her side and blinked at the man she had always known to be a scrawny little thing that had certainly grown up. Setting a hand on her hip and holding on to the top if the open truck door, she astonished, "Lord have mercy, Boy. What has that mama of yours been feedin' you?"

Emmett's booming laughter bounced around the yard as he patted his stomach, "This wasn't my mama, Mrs. Johnson. Got hitched few years back; this was all the wife, barn raisin' and land workin' for my daddy."

Giving him a grin, "Well, late congratulations are better than none, I suspect. You growed up real nice, Emmett."

A light blush spread across his cheeks at that, "awe, go'n now, Ma'am." Clearing his throat, he turned to Marshal, "I check the barn and stables, Mr. Johnson. Didn't see no one. Only thing that was a little off was I found an open window 'round back. Wasn't sure if you left it like that or not. Prolly wouldn't've thought nothin' of it had Peter not told me 'bout what happened. I was fixin' to go in and check when I heard ya'll pull in."

Marshal shook his head a bit and closed his door before walking around to the other to help his niece out of the truck, "It's over the kitchen sink. Damn thing got stuck 'bout a month ago. Can't get it to budge an inch. Mind comin' in and seein' if you can?"

Emmett set his rifle on the porch railing while shaking his head, "not at all, Mr. Johnson." He waited at the bottom of the steps in case the slip of a lady needed any extra help up. Peter had told him she was whiter than a sheet when he last saw her and that description was still pretty close to being true. He wasn't sure if she was still freaked out or if she was just that pale normally. He tipped the brim of his hat to her when she gave him a tight smile, "Little Lady."

Following them inside and to the kitchen, Emmett went over to window and took a look, hitting one side hard enough to shake the glass in the frame before sliding it shut, reopening it and then shutting it again to make sure it was gonna behave then, turning to lean on the sink, he looked over at Marshal, "came out of its slide. Should work fine for ya now."

Marshal nodded to him, "Thank ya, youngin. Damn thing pissed me off somethin' fierce."

Emmett snorted a little before pushing himself off the sink, "Well, I should be gettin' on home 'for the misses starts to worry." Stopping next to the phone, he picked up the pen and began to write his number on the message pad, "If ya'll have any trouble or need anythin', I can be here lickady split. Rosie and I'll keep an eye out and I'll call Jed and have him do the same on the other end. That sumbitch not gettin' nowhere near here without someone knowin' 'bout it first."

Emmett's attention was then pulled to the little lady that was sitting at the dining room table when she whimpered a little. Sighing a little and eyes softening a lot, Emmett went over and crouched down in front of her, giving her a reassuring smile, "Don't you worry none, Little Lady. Ain't no punk ass city boy gonna be able to do nothin' 'round here. Everyone here grew up here and these stompin' grounds are second nature. If he still here, he can't hide better than we can hunt and we don't miss." Then he hummed a little, "Matter a fact… be right back."

Isabella and her uncle watched as Emmett stood up and went outside, her looking up at him with a confused face to which he shrugged and shook his head at. With that boy, it could be just about anything and none of it would surprise him.

About three minutes later, Emmett came back in with a long, flat black case in his hand. Taking up a seat next to Isabella at the table, he unlatched the locks and opened it up, revealing the BB gun that was inside, turning it towards the wide eyed lady.

Snorting a little, Emmett smiled at her, "this ain't what you think, Little Lady. It's only a BB gun. It won't actually kill someone 'less you hit 'em in the eye or somethin', but it does hurt somethin' fierce and make 'em think twice about doin' somethin' stupid. Looks real 'nuff to stop pretty much anyone in their tracks, though."

Taking a few minutes, he showed her how to load it, cock it and the proper way to hold it to get the most accurate aim. When she thought she had the gist of it, Isabella smiled at him, "Thank you, Emmett."

Emmett shrugged as he stood up to leave, "weren't nothin' Little Lady, it wasn't gettin' used. 'Sides, everyone 'round here learns to shoot with one of those so we don't kill anyone. Practice on that and I'll come back in a few day and see how well you doin'. Know my Rosie wants to meet you so I'll bring her 'long too."

Isabella nodded at that, thanked him again and watched from her chair as her aunt walked Emmett to the door. After a light sigh, she turned to her uncle, "How the fuck did he find me here? I don't understand. I left everything that he could have used to find me back home."

Marshal shook his head and sat down at the table with her, "I don't know either, Isa-bee. I'm sorry 'bout this. He wouldn't have known had I not forced you to go somewhere."

Isabella snorted and plopped back against the chair, crossing her arms and looking at the table top, "No, you were right. I was hiding and letting him ruin my life and all that. As least it was a public place with people around that he saw me and not here with you guys not home." Then she folded her arms and set her chin on them, "what am I going to do, Uncle Marsh? This was the only place I had to go."

At that, Marshal hummed in his throat and leaned back in his seat, crossing his own arms. "Welp, the way I see it, Sug, is you got two choices. You can run again and hope for the best. Or, you can show him that you ain't scared of him and stay right here."

"But I am scared of him, terrified actually."

He cocked a brow at her, "you was scared of dogs when ya got here, too, Isa-Bee and now you the one that feeds 'em. You stronger than ya think Sugar, and you need to show HIM that."

Isabella looked at her uncle for a minute before her eyes slid to the BB gun on the table. After a short debate with herself, she reached for it and picked it up, "I'll be out by the barn."

Marshal smiled at her as she left out the back door with gun and ammo in hand, "Atta girl, Isa-Bee."


	3. Chapter 3

The next afternoon at a quarter of four, a pickup pulled into the Johnson ranch. Once the truck was stopped, Jasper hopped out of the bed and went to open the tailgate, grabbing the crutches and holding them for his little brother as Peter hosted himself to a standing position and as he took the crutches from his brother and all Peter could think was, 'fucking bull'. It wasn't the first time he ever broke a bone from getting thrown from something, but it pissed him off every time.

Nodding his thanks, Peter and Jasper followed their parents up the steps to the front door, waiting for it to be opened after their mama knocked.

After the greeting, Mrs. Johnson noticed Peter and his cretches, "Lands sake, what happened?"

Peter shook his head and sighed, "small accident last night, Ma'am. It ain't nothing to worry over."

His mama glared at him a little, "He was stomped on by a bull 'cause he was being a cocky little thing, like always."

Giving his mama a look, "Mama, I have every right to be cocky after getting the buzz off that particular bull. 'Sides, it could've been worse. It could've been like that sumbitch from Cheyenne last year."

It was then Mr. Whitlock cocked a brow at his youngest, "You sassin' your mama, Boy?"

Shaking his head, "wouldn't dream of it Pa; simply telling the truth. That guy'll be lucky to ever have babies."

Jasper grimaced, "I 'member that. Carried on somethin' awful, too."

Before Peter could say a word to him about, 'no shit. His nuts prolly exploded',

Mrs. Johnson cut in seeing the look Peter was giving his brother, "Well, come on in. Boys, Isa-bee's out at the barn."

Heading through the house, Jasper took a detour to the bathroom while Peter went straight out the back door into the yard, making his way across to the far side of the barn where he could hear the Little Darlin' throwing one hell of a fit about something. Peaking around the side, he saw her with a BB gun pointed at makeshift target lined with cans... and wasting the fuck out of some ammo.

Leaning harder on his crutches, he crossed his arms and took a look at her stance, seeing nearly right off what the problem she was having was. Mouth working faster than his brain, he called out, "You droppin' your elbow." He grimaced a little when she shrieked and whirled around, the end of the gun pointed right at him. Raising his hands, "Hoe there, Little Darlin'. I'm unarmed this time."

Quick as shit, she dropped the gun and covered her mouth, "I am so sorry. You scared me, I didn't mean to." Then she blinked a little, "Jesus, what the hell happened to you?"

Peter shrugged a little and made his way over to her, "pissed off a bull, nothin' big." Then he nodded to her, "Let me see your stance again and let's see if we can't fix it for ya." Taking up a position behind her, he checked her out, in more than one way, but his thoughts on the elbow were right. Before he did anything he spoke, "Alright, Little Darlin'. Focus right quick on how you standing right now feels." Giving her a few seconds to do that, he then gently pushed one shoulder down while at the same time, lifting the elbow of the other. "Feet shoulder width apart." Once she had her feet in the right position, he moved back a bit, "feel the difference between how you is now and how you was a moment ago?"

Isabella nodded, "Yeah, this is a lot more uncomfortable."

Peter nodded a little at that and tisked, "that's how you know you doing it right, Sugar Britches. Go'n; take a shot."

Bristling a bit at the name, she did as she was told, shocked at shit when a can went flying off the wooden horse. Slowly lowering the barrel of the gun, she stared wide eyed for a second before scoffing a tad, "well, I'll be damned" Then she turned to looked over her shoulder at Peter, who was smirking nice and big, "I was doing exactly what Emmett told me to do."

Peter snorted hard at that and shook his head once as he clicked his tongue, "well, that explains that then. Emmett can't shoot for shit."

Isabella cocked a brow at him, "and you can?"

Grinning wide, Peter nodded a bit, "youngest ever to get the sharpshooter title in these parts. I can shoot a flea off a pup's back at fifty paces."

Giving him an unimpressed look, she really scoffed this time, "well, looks like someone is just a LITTLE too full of himself."

Peter groaned a bit and dropped his head back on his shoulders, "Christ Almighty woman, you sound just like my mama." Looked back up at her, he cocked a brow at her, "not when it's true, Little Darlin'. I worked at it, real hard. I earned every title I got and with 'em, the right to be a little full of myself."

"Don't be lyin' on the girl, Pete. You tryin' to impress her."

Turning to his brother that just arrived, he smirked, "now, that can't possibly be true, Jazz." Then he chucked, 'cause the little lady sure ain't cooperatin' anyhow. Even after I was all nice like and helped her get a shot off."

Isabella jolted at that, "I would've gotten it eventually."

Peter smirked at her, "Well, even a blind hog finds an acorn now and then, Sugar Britches."

Not having the slightest idea what that meant, she took offence to it. Glaring hard at him, she shook her head, "Here's a title for you." Then she locked eyes with Peter and sneered, "savior to asshole in record time. Fuck. You." Isabella then threw the gun at the ground and whirled around, storming away towards the house. After reaching the house, she closed the door harder than she meant to, but at the same time not really caring.

Marshal looked up from the cards in his hand at the noise, blinking at his niece when he saw tears in her eyes. "Isa-Bee, Sugar what's the matter?"

Looking over at him, she didn't answer him, instead looking at the other man at the table, "I'm sorry, but your son is an asshole." Then she turned and left the room heading for her room.

Head snapping to the girl as she left, Mr. Whitlock barked, "which one?"

Calling back to him, "take your pick" she darted up the steps, slamming her bedroom door once she was in her room.

Growling a little in his throat, Mr. Whitlock stood up and headed for the door, taking a pause when Marshal called to him.

"Don't be too hard on them boys now, Jim. Chances are there was some misunderstandin' on her part and not somethin' the boys did." Marshal turned and leaned on the back of his chair and looked at Jim.

Jim cocked a brow at him, "You don't care the little lady was near tears?"

"Corse I care. However, she still high off from yesterday and more skittish than a newborn colt. I'ma guess neither boy did anythin' and she took offence to somethin' that was said that she didn't understand. I'm just sayin' don't go off half cocked, is all."

Mr. Whitlock looked at Marshal a second more before turning to look out the window, seeing his boys heading towards the house, Jasper carrying a pellet gun in his hand. Giving Marshal a nod, he opened the door and took a step out onto the porch, closing the door behind him. Walking to the railing, he leaned on it with both hands and waited for his boys to notice him.

Once they did, they stopped and looked at him, neither saying a word, like he knew they wouldn't. The two were thick as thieves and would never out the one that was actually in trouble. It has been that way for nearly 26 years, ever since Peter was born. Giving his boys a hard look, he spoke calm and clear, "I don't know which one of ya'll pissed that young lady off like she is. I don't rightly care which one it was. All I'm gonna say is, that girl ever leaves either ya'lls company in tears again, I'll knock both ya'lls heads off to make sure I get the right one. Ya get me, Boys? Ain't neither a ya too old for me to bend over my knee."

Peter and Jasper both nodded quick, fast and in a hurry, and in unison said, "yes, Sir."

Giving a sharp nod to his sons, "Now, I expect the guilty party to apologize and make nice with that girl. She got plenty else to deal with and ain't got a need to be picked on or at by anyone else. One boy scarin' her and makin' her cry is more than enough and I'll be damned if one of MY boys does it too. I raised you better than that and know ya'll fuckin' know better."

"Yes, Sir."

Nodding one more time to his boys, "Now, I'll keep your mama off ya this time but it happens again, ya'll be dealin' with the both of us." After a third 'yes, Sir' from his boys, he jerked his head to the door, "now, git your asses in there and fix whatever it was ya'll did. She had better be bright eyed and bushy tailed when ya'll get called for dinner or I'ma knock ya heads together."

Right before the boys went in the house, Mr. Whitlock stopped them again. He lowered his voice a bit too. "Ya'll gotta keep in mind, she ain't from these parts and ain't got the tough skin ya'll used too. Comin' out of the situation she is on top of it, she gonna be easy to upset. Be a little mindful 'bout not only what you say, but how it is you say it, Boys." Then he added one more thing knowing that it was gonna cut deeper and sink in faster than anything he could ever do to them. "Ya mama raised ya'll to be gentlemen. I suggest ya act like it."

It was then that Mr. Whitlock figured out which one of his boys upset the young lady because Peter couldn't meet his eye anymore. Of the two young men, Peter was the bigger mama's boy and the thought of disappointing her nearly killed that boy. It was also then he knew that he was right in thinking that saying that would cause more damage then actually whooping the boy's ass. Peter could take a hit better than his brother ever could, the fact that Peter still competed in rodeos proved that much. Jasper quit the first time he got chunked off a bronco whereas Peter had been laid up more times than Jim could count and still got back in there near as soon the Doc said he could.

Shaking his head a little, he jerked his head towards the door, "go'n, boys. Get it done."

With a nod, Peter and Jasper went in the house, both avoiding looking at their mama, following the whispered directions to where they would find the young lady.

Jim sat back down at the table, picked up the cards and resumed the game he and Marshal were playing, ignoring the feel of his wife's eyes on him, because what was said between he and his boys wasn't no one business but he and his boys'.

Once the two boys got up the steps, Jasper whispered in Peter's ear, "This is all you, Little Brother. I'll wait out of sight so Mama and Pa don't see me, but if I gotta fix this mess for you, Imma be pissed."

Peter nodded at him, "Thanks." Making his way down the hall to the girl's room while Jasper ducked into the upstairs bathroom, Peter took a deep breath and knocked on Isabella's door and waited for permission to go in. Opening the door when it came, he poked his head in and saw her curled up in a chair in the corner. "Howdy, there, Little Darlin'. Can I talk to you a minute?"

Isabella glanced over at the door and saw him standing there, looking kinda upset so with a light sigh, nodded her consent. Once he came in, she cocked a brow when he closed the door, but said nothing about it and held out a hand towards her bed, "You can sit down if you want. I've been on crutches before and I wasn't a fan of standing."

Surprised at the offer but thankful for it, Peter went over and took a seat on her bed across from where she was sitting.

Once he was down, Isabella shoved the footstool that went with her chair to him, a small smile on her face, "it takes the trob out if you elevate your foot a bit. The higher you have it, the better it feels." She watched as he got himself situated and once she was sure he was, she sighed again, "Look, I'm sorry I called you an asshole. In light of recent events, I haven't really been myself and that was way uncalled for considering what you did for me yesterday. I'm not saying I didn't mean it, I'm just saying I shouldn't have said it."

Peter smirked a little at her, "Naw, you should have said it. I was being an asshole." Leaning back on his palms, he cocked a brow at her, "'sides, I ain't used to hearing a lady say fuck. Ladies from 'round here don't do that."

Isabella snorted a little, "I heard one say it just yesterday actually. This little mutant midget looking girl at the rodeo said it after this fake blonde with faker tits tried to tackle me from behind and fell flat on her face."

Peter tisked, "ah, so that's what happened, huh? Not too surprised actually." A smile pulled at Peter's lips when the girl sucked in a breath, "That was Mary Alice and she ain't no lady. She's a money hungry gold-digger that is further up my brother's ass then shit. That little hussy aside, I really didn't mean to upset you, Little Darlin'. I would never intentionally hurt a lady; be it any kinda hurt I caused. My mama raised me better than that."

At that, Isabella smiled a little, "as out of it as I was, I remember you saying something to that effect." Looking down, she began to pick at a loose thread on the chair arm and bit her lip. After a minute or so, she shook her head, "Can we... I don't know..." Lifting her eyes to look at him, "start all over, forgetting everything from both yesterday and today ever happened? You and your brother seem really nice and I don't want all this stupid fucked up bullshit hanging over and making things more difficult than they already are. Edward has ruined enough of my life and I just really wanna forget all about him and start over."

Peter looked at her a short time, considering that before removing his hat, leaning forward and extending a hand, "Peter Whitlock, Ma'am. Just so there is no surprises, I have a tendency to be an asshole at times."

Face lighting up with an amused grin, she put her hand in his, "Isabella Swan. Just so there is no surprises, I'm not from around here so southern sayings and metaphors might confuse and or piss me off."

Peter snorted a little and smirked at her before dipping his head to her knuckles and pressing a light kiss to them before looking back up with a radiant smile that Isabella swooned at nearly as much as that little action. "It's my pleasure to be makin' your acquaintance, Little Darlin'."

Clearing her throat a little so that girlish giggle wasn't heard, Isabella leaned back in her chair, propping her chin in her hand, "So, you pissed off a bull?"

Peter dropped his head back on his shoulders and laughed hard at the question for a second before lifting his head and smiling at her, "naw, not really. I had dismounted after the buzzer and just didn't get out of the way fast enough. I had to dive to avoid the horns and the damn thing stomped on my ankle. Wasn't the animal's fault, it was mine."

Isabella grimaced a little, "that sounds like it had to hurt."

Peter chuckled, "sure as fuck didn't feel good. At the same time though, I have certainly gotten hurt worse than this. Broken ankle certainly beats the hell out of the injury I got 'bout a year ago. At least I can still get around, couldn't that time."

Surprisingly interested in that, she cocked her head to the side, "What happened last year?"

Sighing a little, Peter leaned back on his hands again, "to get the full picture, you'll be needin' to ask Jasper 'bout it. I don't really 'member much before I woke up in the hospital few days later. From what I can recall though, I got chunked from a bull, not somethin' all that out of the norm, happens all the time 'cause them some mean sumbitches, but this time my foot had gotten caught in the rope 'round its belly. I can 'memeber the first time I hit the ground but that's 'bout it till I woke up again. Was laid up in the hospital for a few weeks and then there was the recreating of the civil war with my mama 'bout me ridin' anymore." Then his face took on a confused look, "to this day I don't know how I won that."

A brow slid up Isabella's forehead as a sly grin pulled at her lips, "So you're mama's boy, huh?"

Peter just shrugged, "and damn proud of it, too. A whistling woman and a crowing hen never comes to a very good end, Sugar Britches." Seeing the confusion on her face he clarified, "I am what I am, Little Darlin' and ain't ever gonna be nothin' else. I'm a good ol' southern raised country boy that loves his mama. I go to church every Sunday. I help my pa chop wood and patch the barn. I prefer my horse over a truck and will break a fucker that mistreats a lady in anyway unbecomin' of a gentleman. 'Sides, I wouldn't be here at all if not for that lady and that alone is 'nuff a reason to drop to my knees and kiss her ass. My mama is my life and I ain't ever gonna do nothin' without her say so."

Isabella nodded a little, a distant look in her eyes a moment before she sighed, "I was that way with my dad until I went off to school. My mom wasn't really around much. She left my dad when I was three and took me with her only to leave me with questionable supervision so she could go out at night. I moved back to my dad's a few years later once I was old enough to understand what was going on and that something wasn't right. She didn't even put up a fight when I asked, just bought a plane ticket for me to fly back by myself when I seven." Her eyes slid around her room a little and she snorted softly, "if you want to know just how little my mom knows about me, look around. When Uncle Marsh called her after I called and asked if I could come and stay here for a while, to find out what kind of things I liked versus what I didn't, she told him my favorite color was blue. I haven't liked the color blue since I was five."

Peter let his own eyes roam around the completely done up in blue room and shook his head a bit, "I doubt my mama could tell you my favorite color either, Little Darlin'."

There was a challenging look on her face for a second before she got up from the chair she was in and went over and opened the door, calling out to Mrs. Whitlock. When she got a 'yeah, Dolly?' from the bottom of the steps, Isabella looked over her shoulder at Peter and Jasper, who had appeared out of thin air, before turning back, "What's Peter's favorite color? He won't tell me."

Bev Whitlock smiled up the steps at the young lady, "Oh, is that all? You'll catch him flippin' coins between crimson red and midnight black."

Smothering a smirk, Isabella cleared her throat to get the giggle out as she turned to look at Peter, calling back downstairs, "thank you Mrs. Whitlock."

"No problem, Sugar. Now, you kids come on down now. Supper is just about on the table."

Bev stood at the bottom of the steps to make sure the kids actually listened and saw Isabella turn and lean on the railing, smiling slightly at the giggle in her voice when she challenged Peter to a race, then suppressing a giggle at the look her youngest gave the little lady. It was a cross between indulgence to a lady and annoyance at the cast on his leg. Whatever had happened before seemed to now be water under the bridge for them. Good thing too, because she really would have hated to have to shove one of those crutches up her baby's backside.

Once Isabella was down the steps, Bev gave her a smile, "come on, Youngin. You can help me and your Aunt Steffy set the table and I'll tell ya whatever ya want to know about my boys."

At the two deep groans of 'mama' behind her, Isabella let out a dark chuckle, "Oh, I can't wait to find out all about them, Mrs. Whitlock."

 ***X***

Fifteen minutes later, Peter was sitting in the living room with his brother, daddy and Marshal drinking a beer and bullshitting with them as the ladies set the table and got dinner finished up doing his absolute best to strain his hearing so he knew what his mama was saying. There was quite a bit of things that he would certainly prefer she never found out about and he was near positive that that was what his mama was telling. He was nearly crawling out of his skin by the time the boys were called in to eat... by the Little Darlin' calling out 'all hogs to the toff'.

That was his mama's doing, he was sure of it.

Once they were in the dining room, he was pointed to an end chair so he could prop his foot up on a chair while his mama and Mrs. Johnson started bringing out dinner and Isabella asked the guys what they wanted to drink, vanishing into the kitchen with the drink orders and returning with the requested alcohol. The part that surprised him the most was once the table was set, she took up a seat between him and his brother figuring she would have sat across from them instead.

After grace was said, he had taken a drink from his beer only to nearly choke on it when the little thing leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Christ, you were a mean little fucker, weren't you?"

Before he ever even looked at her, he gave his mother a horrified look, "Mama."

She was completely unrepentant about it too. "What? Way I figure it, the lady had a right to know whatever she wanted 'bout you after the way you acted earlier, youngin." Then she pointed a finger in his face, "you pull somethin' like that again and I tell her 'bout your first huntin' trip, ya hear?"

Jaw dropping, "you wouldn't?"

"Bet your ass I would, Peter. Wanna test me?"

"No Ma'am."

After the very real threat of revealing what would probably be considered the worst day of Peter's young life, things settled down and the conversation turned to other things that wouldn't kill him of horror and embarrassment.

Part way through dinner Isabella had gotten refills prompting a smartass comment from Peter, "trying to get us drunk Little Darlin'?"

To which she responded, "anything to loosen your tongue enough to tell me about that hunting trip."

Peter just smirked as Jasper and his daddy snorted, "there ain't enough booze on the planet to get me that drunk, Sugar Britches." His smirk just widened a bit at the challenging look that sparked in her eyes. Once she was in the kitchen, he turned to her aunt, "this is some amazing Chicken, Mrs. Johnson."

Steff beamed at him, "Why thank you kindly, Peter. I played with my Mama's recipe and this was the outcome."

Then Isabella came back, her voice colored with the same pride that was on Marshal's face, "It was voted best in three counties." After she handed out the beer and took her seat again, she turned to Peter with a smile, "and if you think this is good, wait till dessert. She made this pecan pie that will knock your socks off."

She was right too. As much as he loved his mama's pecan pie, Mrs. Johnson's was better by a mile. After everyone was done eating, they had just stayed at the table talking about this and that. Peter had sloughed down in his seat a bit and draped one arm over the back of his chair and, after glancing at Isabella out of the corner of his eye, took a chance and set his other hand on her knee, leaving it there when all she did was look at him briefly before turning back to the conversation.

After a while, the conversation turned to Peter and his broken ankle. Marshal had asked how long he was laid out for and when he was going to be able to ride again to which he shrugged a bit, "Doc said 'bout a month or so 'fore this thing comes off. I was already signed up for this rodeo in Dallas in two weeks and entry wasn't cheap but it's too late to back out; however, due to the circumstances they gonna allow a sub rider so Im'a be working with Emmett to take my place for it."

Isabella looked at him and cocked her head to the side, "why not Jasper?"

Peter leaned forward a bit and looked at his brother, "you wanna answer that?"

Jasper shrugged a little, "I would've had Emmett not said he would, but I don't compete anymore. I got chunked few years back; jarred my back up pretty good and I'm smart enough to think twice about lettin' it happen again."

Isabella looked a little confused at the terms used, "chunked? Like you bit or something?"

Jasper smirked a bit and shook his head, "Naw, Sugar. I was thrown from a bronco and landed bad. While I can still ride, I tend to only do so outside an arena."

She just nodded, having nothing to say to that. She could certainly understand his point of view on the matter, she wouldn't take the chance of it happening again either. Instead she looked back at Peter, "So, what exactly happens at one of these? I didn't get to see much at the one yesterday."

Clicking his tongue a few times, Peter shrugged a bit, "can't really explain it, Little Darlin'. It would be somethin' to see for yourself. I mean, I can give ya a rundown if ya like, but words just don't it." Then he hummed a bit, "If ya want, you welcome to come and watch as I give Em a crash course later this week. It still won't be the same as the actual event or nothin' since he ain't done it in awhile, but it should give ya the basics."

She smiled at that, "sure. Sounds like fun."


	4. Chapter 4

Four days later, Isabella pulled up to the Whitlock ranch in her uncle's truck. After knocking on the door, and a short talk with Mrs. Whitlock, she was pointed out to the backyard where she would find Peter as he tried his damnedest to teach Emmett to ride a bucking bronco and a bull.

From what she was hearing, it wasn't going well.

"God damn it, Emmett. You hurt that steed and I'ma gonna have your fuckin' hide."

Biting her lip a little, she walked up behind him calling out, "Looks like this is going well."

Peter looked over his shoulder, a light glare on his face being unable to wipe it off completely. He was irritated and borderline pissed off at this point since there seemed to be NO way to get the dumb fuck to listen to him. His annoyance was in his voice as he called back, "Oh yeah, couldn't be better, Little Darlin'" only from him to whip back to the corral at the sound of a pained whine from the horse, "scratch that. I'ma kill ya if that horse cries out like that one more fuckin' time Emmett. Jesus Christ. You wanna mistreat a horse like that, do it on ya own land, I'll switch hit ya for it here."

Reaching his side, Isabella watch Emmett for a minute before looking up at Peter when he growled a little, "I'm about to cut the loss of the entry fee for the sake of my horse and sanity and say to fuck with it."

Looking back at Emmett, she tilted her head to the side a bit, "what is he doing wrong?"

Peter crossed his arms across the top of the fence to the corral and glared at his cousin, "just about every damn thing he can, that's what." Then he looked down at her, "He hadn't rode in one of these since the rules changed few years back. We can't wear spurs on a horse no more, only on a bull. So to make up for the lack of sticks," then he looked back at Emmett and spoke louder than necessary, "seems he tryin' his damnedest to break the horse's back instead of just taking the fall like a man."

Emmett looked over at him and called out, "Shit hurts."

Peter just gave him a flat look, "naw, you just a pansy ass. Now, quit actin' like you a fuckin' glass daisy 'for I break ya 'cause you hurt my horse and I'll fuckin' kill ya. Rocky ain't ever done nothin' to ya to deserve the way you treatin' 'im. I suggest you use the brains God gave ya and not test me right now."

Isabella watched Emmett for about an hour, Peter talking her through everything he was doing, trying to get her to understand the basics of what was going on. She understood most of it, but there were a few things that she couldn't just like Peter figured there would be. There was a lot of things that just couldn't be explained during something like this and only fully understood in the actual setting. Emmett had taken a few nasty looking falls during that hour, too.

Also over that time, it was becoming increasingly apparent to Peter that he was gonna just have to eat the entry fee this time around because from what he was seeing, Emmett was gonna end up being disqualified out the gate and he would rather swallow the loss than have his reputation tarnished by picking a replacement rider that doesn't know his head from his ass. While he would admit that he wasn't the biggest fan of the change in the regulations, he still followed them and Emmett seemed incapable of getting it through his skull that not only were you disqualified for spurring a horse, you were fined and banned from entry for six months. Since Emmett was riding under his entry, both punishments fell on him. Since this was how he made his living, a six month ban would royally fuck him, not to mention the thousand dollar fine for breaking the rules.

There was another whine from Rocky making Isabella grimace before looking up at Peter, swallowing a little hard at the dark look that entered his eyes as he looked at his cousin. She honestly couldn't blame him though. He had given repeated warnings to Emmett about not doing that because it would hurt the horse and from what she had gathered over the last hour, Rocky was Peter's baby.

The tone that colored Peter's voice when he spoke to Emmett sent a chill down her spine, "get ya ass off my horse 'fore I crack ya fuckin' skull. We done for the day and I suggest ya bring ya own horse tomorrow 'cause you ain't ever getting nowhere NEAR mine again."

Emmett dismounted and turned to look at Peter, "that fall could've broken my neck."

The darkness on Peter's face didn't ebb in the slightest. If anything, it got a little darker. "Your neck don't mean shit to me compared to the back of my horse, fucker. A broken neck for you means a cushy place in bed for a time. A broken back for Rocky means death you sumbitch. You keep that shit in mind next time you jerk him 'round like that, ya hear?" Unlatching the clasp to the gate, Peter swung it open and clicked his tongue to the horse, calling his attention to the escape route offered to it.

Once the horse was through, Peter grabbed Rocky's reigns so he didn't go nowhere, gave him a handful of sugar cubes and patted at his neck, all the while still glaring at his cousin. Once the horse was done with the treat, Peter grabbed his crutches before leading Rocky to the stables to let him relax and rest from that fuckery.

Not knowing what else to do, Isabella followed after him in case he needed any help. She watched at the ease Peter worked with unlatching the saddle, removing it and tossing it like it weighed nothing onto a wooden horse in the hall of the stable before grabbing a brush and began to swipe it across Rocky's torso.

While he was doing that, she took a seat on a hay bale and watched for a little longer before she spoke, "Emmett didn't hurt him too bad that last time, did he?"

Peter shook his head but didn't look away from what he was doing, "Naw, don't think so anyways. Rocky's resilient and can take quite a bit, but Emmett is built like brick shit house and weighs about the same. He'll be sore a spell I'm sure but some time under a heated cover and he should be fine, I reckon."

Leaning an elbow on her knee, she propped her chin in her palm, "if Rocky means that much to you, why did you let Emmett ride him for so long today?"

Tossing the brush into a bucket in the corner and picking up a flat headed bar, Peter picked up one of Rocky's front legs to begin the task of cleaning the packed dirt out of his hooves while humming a bit in his throat before he answered that with a tisk, "Rocky here knows the ways of buck training so he was the best option to try and give Em the crash refresher course. Plus, out of all the horses on the ranch, Rocky is the youngest and the only one that would be able to bounce back had the horse actually gotten hurt."

Isabella nodded a bit at that before leaning back on her hands, "so, are you going to let Emmett ride for you next weekend?"

At that, Peter growled a little, "right now, I ain't too sure that Emmett is even gonna live to SEE next weekend much less ride in my place. I'm sorely tempted to just eat the couple hundred bucks and save my reputation. If I send him in pulling that shit he pulled today, it'll be YEARS before I can show my face in the arena again." Giving his head a shake, a glare on his face and sneer in his voice, "you'd think the dumb fuck ain't ever been on horse 'fore." Throwing the bar in his hand into the corner a little harder than he intended to, he then grabbed the cover to toss over Rocky's back to help sooth his sore muscles and lead him into his stall, before then turning and leaning against the stall wall and crossing his his sights on the little lady he saw two things that tightened his gut a bit. She was looking at him with wider than normal eyes, a seed of slight fear in them at the display of his flaring temper, and he saw the white knuckled grip she had on the edge of the hay bale.

Dropping his head back on his shoulders and taking a deep breath to try and calm back down a bit, Peter sighed before looking back at her, his voice softening a bit, "Sorry, Little Darlin'. I didn't mean to scare ya."

Isabella looked up at him, taking a deep breath of her own and letting it out slowly and shaking her head, "it's alright. You have every reason to be mad..."

Peter have moved across the hall and crouched down in front of her and pushed his hat upon his head with a thumb before setting a hand on either knee, cutting her off and forced her to lock eyes with him.

Once he was positive he had her attention, he smiled at her, "you listen good now, Little Darlin'. There are two things we gonna get straight, right now. I ain't gonna lie 'bout the fact I got a nasty temper and if you gonna be 'round you need to know you gonna see it. You also need to know that I ain't ever even so much as raised my voice to a lady, not even as a kid, and I ain't ever gonna. If a lady is the reason for my temper, I walk away and calm the fuck down 'fore I ever say a word so that I don't be goin' off half cocked and say somethin' I shouldn't, even if I mean it. Now a man, that's a different story entirely. I'll treat a man exactly how he acts but I'll always treat a lady like she a belle, even if she don't act like one." Cocking his brow a little, "ya understand what I'm tryin' to say here, Little Darlin'?"

Sighing a little and looking down, Isabella nodded a bit, "yeah, I know. I'm sorry for freaking out, it's just..."

Peter crooked a finger under her chin and lifted her head back up, giving her a serious look, "You ain't got shit to be sorry 'bout, ya hear? You got as much right to get freaked out over a loss a temper as anyone else. Tell ya what, I'll make ya a deal. I'll work on my temper if you promise me you'll keep in mind that if I ever do lose it again, it ain't with you and even if it is, I ain't gonna act on it like you expect me too."

Her face fell a little at that, "but that's just it, Peter. I learned a long time ago to expect it so when it does you're ready for it and if it doesn't it's a nice surprise." Then she lowered her voice a bit, "I don't like it but I can't help it. One too many times hearing it will never happen again and then it does takes away the false sense of security that the words give you. It's fucked up, but it's the way it is."

Peter's brow rose a little higher on his forehead at her words, "Just how long were you in that kinda situation?"

Tears prickling at her eyes a little and a small lump forming in her throat, she swallowed hard before answering, "a little over six months. Every time it happened was sworn to be the last, until the next time came and every time was worse than the one before it. I WANT to believe you, and please don't take this the wrong way, but I wanted to believe him too." Pulling her chin free, she turned away from his piercing green eyes and shook her head as a tear slipped down her finally healed cheek, "and that didn't turn out very well."

Peter watched as that single tear slowly slid down her cheek, mocking him with every centimeter it moved to the point he was ready to go hunting so he had an excuse to kill something. Lightly tapping a finger on her knee a few times, he hummed a little and tisked a bit, "well, there is really only one way to prove my point that I can see, Sugar Britches." Reaching up and wiping that fucking tear away, he once again turned her to face him, a smirk on his face, "you just gonna have to spend time with me until you figure out that not all guys are that fucked in the head. Whatcha say, Little Darlin'? Never know," then he winked at her, "you might just have some fun."

She looked him in the eyes for a minute or so, trying to decide just how good of an idea this was before giving him a little half smile, "will you teach me how to ride a horse?"

Giving her another one of those blinding smiles, he chuckled a bit, "It would be my pleasure, Little Darlin'. Glancing off to the side and down the walkway, he bit into the corner of his bottom lip as he tried to figure out the best horse for her to learn on. He would have picked Rocky hands down had Emmett not been a jackoff, but since he was out, he figured his momma's horse was the best choice left of the bunch they had on the ranch. She was one of the older ones making her one of the least likely to take off or rear up and throw the lady from her back.

Standing, he went to the stable doors and called towards the house, "Mama." Once she was out on the porch and had given him her attention he inquired, "When was the last time you took out Laylonni?"

When she actually had to think about the answer, Peter had already decided it was too long ago to be good for the old girl, being confirmed when his mama answered with 'about three weeks'. A riding horse of Laylonni's age needed to be taken out at least once a week if not twice in that time to keep the muscles tight enough for her to be able to be rode. He looked back at his mama when she called back out to him, "why?"

"Miss Isabella here wanted to ride and Em's dumbass hurt Rocky's back."

"You be good to her, Peter... Isabella?" Once the young lady she was looking for was in her sights, "You stayin' for supper tonight, Sugar? It'll be done in 'bout an hour?"

Eyes going wide, she looked at her watch, not realizing that so much time had passed. Looking back up, "I told my aunt I'd be home for dinner."

Mrs. Whitlock waved a hand in the air, "I'll call her and let her know. Ya'll kids have fun, now."

Isabella blinked at her as she disappeared back inside before looking up at Peter, "She doesn't get told no, does she."

Peter snorted a little and shook his head, "I only heard it once in 26 years, Sugar Britches. She didn't like it much. Come on, I'll show you how to saddle."

Isabella had no idea that there was so much that went into putting a saddle on a horse. It took almost ten minutes before he said she was ready and began to lead her out of the stable and out towards the corral.

As she was walking next to him, Isabella looked up, "So you're 26?"

Peter shook his head a bit, "Naw, not quite. Close though, couple more months in August." Looking down at her, "Now I know better than ask, but what 'bout you?"

Giggling and eyes dancing, "Yet you ask anyways?" Shaking her head a little, she looked back up at him, "I'll be 24 in September." Then she cocked her head to the side, "So how long have you been riding?"

Blowing a raspberry with his lips, Peter lifted both shoulders before dropping them again, "Long time. Since 'bout the time I could walk."

"What about in competition?"

Humming a bit, "It'll be 11 years in September. Started that shit when I was fifteen in the junior division. I moved to the one I'm in now when I turned 18."

"Are there like, huge differences between the two divisions or something?"

Wrinkling his nose a little, Peter shook head head, "Not really. Bigger animals, longer times and a few fewer rules and regulations, that's 'bout it." Pulling the horse to a stop in the middle of the corral, he patted her neck before crooking a finger at Isabella, "Come here." Pointing to a foot hold in the saddle, "right foot through there; I'll boost you up." Once her foot was where he told her to put it, he gripped her by the hips, and lifted her up, telling her to swing her leg over and put her foot in the other foot hold. Once she was up, Peter handed over the reigns, "Hang on to these. Laylonni here will take her cues as to what you want by what she feels through these. You tug to the right, she'll go right and so forth. You pull back, she'll stop. Got it?" At the girl's nod, Peter took a step back and crossed his arms, "Now, TAP your feet to her sides. The harder you hit, the faster she gonna go."

For the remaining time before Mrs. Whitlock called them in to dinner, Peter worked with Isabella on the finer points of riding; how to sit in the saddle properly so as to not hurt your ass, how to get the horse to follow your commands, things like that. By this time the hour was up, Isabella was up to riding a soft trot.

As they were putting Laylonni up, Peter looked over the horse's back with a little smirk, "Not to shabby for a city gal, I suspect. Maybe there's a bit of a country gal in there somewhere after all, huh?"

She just giggled a little and threw a brush at him.

 ***X***

Isabella ended up staying at the Whitlock ranch until after dark having been invited to take a ride along the trails around the ranch after dinner. Before she left that night, Peter had given her his cell number, telling her to call him to let him know she made it home since she was still learning the area. She ending up having to call him once from a diner because she took a wrong turn and couldn't figure out where it was and she didn't know her uncle's number off the top of her head.. She appreciated the face he didn't laugh at her as he told her how to find the main road she was looking for, well, why she was on the phone with him anyways.

The next afternoon Emmett had come over and as promised, brought his wife with him. To her surprise, they had actually hit it off almost immediately and Isabella really liked her. She was blunt and straight to the point, not beating around the bush on anything or holding her tongue. Before Rosalie and Emmett left that night, the girls made plans for Saturday to go to the city for some shopping, fast food and a new cell phone for Isabella. The way she saw it, Edward already knew where she was so it was pointless to hide anymore. Plus, she was tired of it as it was and if she out and had a phone, she had a better chance of getting help than if she didn't.

After Rose dropped her off at home that evening and she got a shower and ate dinner, she was lying in bed listening to her iPod when her phone rang. Grabbing it off her night stand and looking at the collar ID, her brow drew a little at the number. After a short debate, she shrugged and flipped it open, "Hello?"

 _"Howdy, Sugar Britches."_

Smiling and rolling her eyes a little, "Hey Peter, what's up?"

 _"Not a damn thin'. Hey, what are ya doin' tonight?"_

"Not a lot. What number are you calling from?"

 _"Jasper's phone 'cause mine is currently deader than door nail. Anyhow, I was wantin' to know if ya wanted to go out tonight."_

Blinking a bit, "and do what?"

 _"Get rowdy and raise all kinds of hell. There's a barn dance out in the sticks and I need a partner."_

Biting her lip, she groaned a little, "I'm not much of a dancer and you already have a broken foot."

There was snort on the other end of the line, _"then you ain't ever had a good partner 'cause every girl can dance. And don't you be worried none 'bout my foot. I got this boot cast doohickey from the doc today that not even Rocky could break if he tried. So, what do ya say, Little Darlin', come out with me tonight?"_

Taking a minute to think about it, she finally gave in, "Alright, I'll go but I warned you that I can't dance for shit."

After they cleared up the details and he said he would be there to pick her up in an hour, Isabella hung up with him and wasted no time dialing another number.

Once there was a greeting on the other end, Isabella whimpered into the phone a little, "Rosie, I need your help."

Ten minutes later Isabella was opening the front door and pulling Rosalie inside and up to her room, where it looked like a Texas tornado had hit. Rose looked around the room with wide eyes before looking at the freaking out little Dolly. Scoffing a little and shaking her head a bit, Rose came up with a plan of attack.

Grabbing the frantic girl by the shoulders, she finally got her attention and very calmly explained, "You head off to the shower right quick Dolly. I'll make sense of this mess and pick you out somethin' to wear. All you doin' right now is wasting time we ain't got, Doll."

Whimpering at that, Isabella whirled around, hitting Rose in the face with her hair in her haste on accident making Rose snort and shake her head before she then turned back to the mess of clothing that littered every surface of the room with her hands on her hips. Once she heard the bathroom door slam, she giggled a little, looking back over her shoulder at the door, "That poor Dolly ain't got no idea what the fuck she in for tonight." Turning back to the room, she rubbed her hands together, "Let's see what I can find here."

By the time Isabella came out of the shower, Rose had an outfit all laid out that was not up for debate no matter how much protest came out of Isabella. When she tried, Rose just cocked a brow at her, "You asked me to help, Dolly, so you dress the way I say. Now, put it on."

What Rose didn't know was all she was gonna ask was if it wasn't just a little too revealing for the first time her and Peter ever actually hung out. She didn't have a problem with this outfit. If she had, she wouldn't have bought the damn thing.

Glaring a tad, she began to get dressed in the short jean skirt and the corset style halter top. It was like most of the rest of her going out clothes in its length, or lack there of. It only went down to the bottom of her ribs showing off her whole stomach. It was almost the exact same outfit she wore the first time she had met Peter, only the shirt wasn't a tank top or white. The corset was black with white designs stitched into it.

Rose watched as her little dolly pulled on her socks and gagged a little when she saw her reaching for her sneakers. Rolling her eyes, Rose sighed, "what size shoe do you wear?" A triumphant smile came to her lips when the answer was '7'. Sitting down on the bed, Rose pulled off the black boots she was wearing and tossed them on the floor in front of Isabella with the order to put them on. Once the boots were on her dolly's feet, she had her stand and do a twirl for her, finger tapping to her chin in thought of what was fuck was missing.

After a moment, Rose snapped her fingers with an 'ah ha' before she started to undo her belt and taking off the changeable buckle. Picking up the black belt from the floor, she hooked it on and handed the belt over to be put on. Isabella looked at the buckle that was apparently very important to the outfit, snorting hard before laughing out loud at what it was. It was a silver plate with dark pink rhinestones that spelled out, '8 seconds don't win my Rodeo' with that mudflap girl above it in black rhinestones, the rest filled in with silver ones.

Cocking a brow at her new friend, Isabella snorted again, "Seriously?"

Rose nodded enthusiastically at that, "oh, absolutely, Dolly. You goin' dancin' with a rodeo boy. You gonna wanna be remindin' him that 8 seconds really ain't as long as he thinks it is. Plus, you goin' dancin' with a rodeo boy so it's cute." Looking out the window when she saw a set of headlights sweep over it and saw Peter's truck coming to a stop, she turned back to her Dolly and began to usher her out the door and down the steps. Before she opened the door, she gave Isabella a look to be obeyed and gave her a piece of parting advice, "take his hat at some point and wear it."Lifting a hand to stop the coming question, "you just trust me on this now and do it, ya hear?"

Isabella took a deep breath and nodded a little, "You and Emmett are still going to come out right?"

"Absolutely, Dolly. I just gotta run home right quick and change but I promise ya, I'll be there as long as ya need me to be."

Giving her a tight squeeze, Isabella pulled back and turned to the door, taking one more deep breath before opening it and calling back to her aunt and uncle that she was leaving. With one more glance at Rose, Isabella was out the door. She trotted down the steps and mosied across the grass taking in the full picture of her 'date' and felt her mouth go dry at the sight. He wasn't dressed up like she was used to when going to a club or whatever but she honestly couldn't even fathom him in anything but the well worn Wranglers jeans that looked like they were tailored just for him and the dark red button up that he rolled up to just below his elbow. He left the top few buttons undone showing the black undershirt he had on under it. He had on one black cowboy boot and his boot cast on the other. The look was completed by his black Stetson, that she yet to see him without, his just shy of chin length hair peeking out from under it that she could see was still damp from the shower.

She was swallowing a whimper about the same time Peter was doing the same with a groan after taking in the sight that was his Little Darlin'.

When she reached a point that was close enough to read the belt buckle, he made a silent prayer to God that he could keep his hands to himself. Moving around his truck, he opened the door for her, holding out a hand to help her climb up. Giving her a smile as she took it, "Looks like I was right 'bout you havin' a hidden country gal in there somewhere. You just about look the full part, Little Darlin'."

Looking down at her outfit, she then looked up and gave him a coy little smile. Well, he gave her the perfect opportunity; she couldn't very well turn it down, now could she? Reaching up, she plucked his hat from his head and put in on her own. Giving him the most innocent look she could, her still developing southern twang coming out without thought on her part, "how 'bout now, Cowboy?" This was first time she had seen him without a hat and she was nearly tempted to run her fingers through his dirty blonde hair.

This time, there was swallowing the groan before it was born. Letting go of her hand, he grabbed her by the hips and just picked her up and set her on the seat before he got nose to nose with her, his green eyes dark and smoldering, "you, My Little Darlin', are gonna make me forget to be a gentleman tonight." With great effort, he pulled back and smirked at her, "put ya belt on" and shut her door.

Once he climbed up in his seat he looked over at her as he started his truck but didn't say anything as his eyes raked over her again. Giving his head a little shake, he tossed an arm behind her seat and backed out of the drive.

Once they were on the road, he turned the volume of the radio back up just as the CD track changed to No News by Lonestar that, to his surprise, made his Little Darlin' squeal and turn it up as she began to sing along and she danced around in her seat.

As the song ended, Peter was nearly laughing at the way she was wagging her finger at him. Instead, he just chuckled a bit and shook his head, "well now, you ain't ever struck me as someone that likes this kind of music, Little Darlin'."

Isabella just giggled a little as she leaned back in her seat, "well, I'm sure there is a lot about me you would be surprised at, Peter. I might not be from the south like you are, but I was raised in a small town. I didn't move to the city until I went to college."

Grinning over at her, Peter chuckled again, "Well, my apologies Ma'am, if I offended you."

The rest of the drive out to the stick was spent singing along to the music of Garth Brooks, Alan Jackson and Toby Keith.


	5. Chapter 5

When Peter pulled up the shindig, it was still kinda early so there weren't all that many people there, but there was enough for it to be a pretty packed parking area. Once Peter parked, cut the engine and took the keys out of the ignition, He turned around in his seat and dug around a minute before finding what he was looking for. Turning back and sitting down, he dusted off another Stetson, this one white, and once he was satisfied with how clean it was, he put it on before winking at his Little Darlin' and got out. Walking around his truck, he opened his door and instead of simply giving her a hand out, he once again lifted her by the hips and gently set her on her feet.

Isabella pursed her lips before flicking the brim of the hat, "you look better in black."

Peter just snorted a little, "Well, see this little daisy I know took my black one and this was the only other hat I had in my truck."

Giving him a smile, she reached up and took off the white hat, this time taking the opportunity and running her fingers through his hair, before taking his black hat off her head and putting it back on his and wearing his white hat instead. Since there was a little black in the hat and a little white in her shirt, it still went together. "There, that better?"

Keeping one hand on her hip, he set the other on the open door frame, kicking his boot casted foot behind him and up on his toes to give his ankle a break from his weight, he leaned a little closer to her, "what do you think? I'm pretty easy to please, Little Darlin'. I don't need much, just my hat, my horse, a pack of Marlboros and a beer and I'm a happy fucker. Everything else is just a bonus."

Looking at him with a weird look on her face, she bit her lip a moment before replying, "you forgot the clothes on your back."

He just cocked a brow at her, "No, I didn't." Then he winked at her, "That's one of them bonuses."

She pictured that and nearly choked on her tongue.

Peter smirked at her a little before dragging her out of the open doorway and shutting the door behind her. Keeping her between him and his truck, he caged her between his arms too and bent down to look her in the eyes, "Just like I'm prone to losing my temper, I am just as prone to losing my clothes."

Giggling like a teenager all over again, Isabella reached up and batted at the brim of his hat, knocking it in his eyes before ducking under his arm. She didn't get far before she felt his hand close around her wrist and, with a smooth maneuver, twirled her back around and to his chest with a squeal, locking his fingers behind her back to keep her there.

Smirking down at her, Peter used the hat on his head to tilt the one on her back and out on his view of her face. Chuckling a little, "You blushin' like a virgin on her weddin' night, Little Darlin'. I think someone needs a little white lightnin' to calm down a bit."

Feeling the steel muscles under her fingers through the fabric of his shirt, she didn't think that whisky was all that good of an idea personally, but she wasn't about to say no to it either. So, like a dumbass, she smiled and nodded.

Smirk growing a little at the nod, "Atta girl. There is just ONE thing I wanna do before we head on inside." Seeing curiosity spark in her eyes, Peter dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers like he had wanted to do earlier in the week before she left the day she had come to his mama's. He had been kicking his mental ass for two days for not doing so and had spent a lot of that time trying to figure out how get another chance at it.

And he couldn't be happier that that night's shindig came up in conversation at the corner store earlier in the day. The way she seemed to melt against him paired with the muffled mewl damn near set his blood on fire. She tasted like cherries to him, but that was probably that lip gloss shit and not actually her but he just a mental shoulder at that thought. This wasn't the only time he planned on devouring those lips tonight and he was sure at some point, it would come off and he would find out if she really tasted as sweet as he thought.

Deciding not to push her too far to soon, he didn't make a move to deepen the kiss into anything more heated than it was, but he lingered for a moment longer before pressing a final peck to her lips and standing back his full height. There was a real stroke to his ego when she open her eyes and he saw a glossy sheen over the bright brown orbs.

Her voice was airy and light when she finally found it, "what was that for?"

Peter smirked and gave a cocky little shrug, "you wearin' my hat. 'Round here, that makes you my girl till you give it back or I take it back." Then he lifted a hand and fixed it on her head, "but you too damn cute in it for me to be considering that. And that means I get to kiss ya whenever I want."

Voice still a little breathless, all she did was say, "okay" and took his arm when he presented it to her. As he lead her inside, she made a very valiant effort to get upset at the way he phrased that but there wasn't a shred of her that could muster the will to do so. There wasn't any darkness in his eyes when he called her his girl and there wasn't any following threat to it, there was actually a compliment. She turned her face up to look at him and bit her lip a little. She wanted to believe that he was different than Edward and maybe he was... so far he was and other than that one time, that was pretty justified, she hadn't seen him get upset. As a matter of fact, he was on the verge of shooting Edward the day they met. A small smile pulled at her lips when she thought about that twist of fate. He was only supposed to be in town for a few days and ended up breaking his ankle keeping him here long enough for her to be able to get to know a little.

Smiling wider, she came to the decision that she was just going to go with the flow in this and see where it went. After the disaster that that was her last relationship, she felt she owed it to herself to at least have some fun. It this didn't turn out to be for the long haul, she was going to enjoy it while it lasted. Plus, if Peter ever did cross that line, she wasn't too big a person to tell his daddy on his ass; she would do it in heartbeat and not feel a bit bad about it. She would sell tickets and popcorn to the show too.

Pulling his girl up in front of him once they reached the bar, He dipped his head to her ear so she could hear him over the music, "What do you want, Little Darlin'?"

Turning to face him, she just shrugged and shook her head, "I don't care. Whatever's fine with me. I'll drink about anything but gin; shit is fucking nasty."

Reaching into his back pocket for his wallet, Peter pulled out his credit card and handed it over to the bartender, ordering two shots of the promised white lightning and two Buds. Leaning to the side of her and on his elbow on the bar, his casted foot propped up on the foot bar with his leg behind her calves. Picking up his shot glass when it was put in front of him, "what are we drinking to tonight, Little Darlin'?"

Isabella looked at her shot, tapping the glass on the bartop in thought before looking at him and raising her glass, "to having fun for once without worrying about the consequences of it."

Peter's emerald eyes flashing to jade brought the girl up a little short and she looked at him in confusion when he set his glass back down and shook his head a little. He laced his fingers together and just looked at her a short time before he licked his lips and ticked a bit, "I ain't drinkin' to nothin' that has to do with that shit." He paused a minute before he locked eyes with her, "I can't make you believe me when I say you ain't got nothin' like that to worry about with me, Sweetheart, but I certainly hope eventually you'll get it through your head. We out to have fun and I never worry about no fuckin' consequences. Now, you said you wanted to forget he existed, prove it." Picking back up his glass, he raised it and continued to look in her eyes, "what's the toast, Sugar Britches?"

Looking at the glass he was holding then back at him, she picked her glass back up and locked her eyes back on his, "get me, eat me, bite me, blow me. Fuck me, suck me very slowly. If you kiss me don't be sassy, use that tongue and make it nasty." With that, she clangged her glass to his and took her shot.

Peter just looked at her a moment before smirking, "Now THAT'S a toast." Then he took his shot, trading his empty shot glass for his beer bottle. Giving her a smile, "where the hell you hear that from?"

Giggling a little as she too traded her empty for her beer, she shrugged, "It was the toast of the night on my 21st birthday. It was the last time that I went out before I got with my ex. I changed it from what it used to be though. There was a 'beat me' in there before but you said you wouldn't drink to that so I improvised a bit."

Wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him, he smiled at her, "cute and smart. I'm one lucky little fucker."

Pushing his hat on her head back a bit, she gave him a little look, "what would you have done had I not taken your hat?"

Peter chuckled a little and leaned forward, setting his forehead on hers, "I'da kissed ya anyways."

Cocking her brow a little, "really?"

Nodding once, "you bet that cute little ass I would've. I've been kickin' myself for not doin' it since you left my mama's the other day. Had you not taken my hat, I would've waited till later tonight and blamed the booze had you a problem with it." Then he shrugged a little as he pulled back to take a drink of his beer, but paused with the bottle to his lips long enough to say, "I'm resourceful like that" and took his drink, smiling a little around the bottle when his girl snorted hard before laughing.

Once she calmed a bit, she took a drink of her beer, swallowing before making her observation, "sounds to me like you got some experience with that little stunt."

Smirking wide enough for his teeth to show, "now, whatever gave you that idea? I don't need STUNTS, I am just that damn good."

Scoffing with a smile on her face, "well, alright then you conceded little prick, never fuckin' mind."

Snorting, Peter took a drink of his beer before leaning in to whisper in his Little Darlin''s ear, "There ain't nothin' little about my prick." Then he laughed as she pulled away from him with a cry of 'Jesus'. Smiling wide at her, "You might be gettin' a slight accent, Little Darlin', but we still gotta work on ya vocabulary. You gotta remember you ain't in the big ol' city here and what you mean ain't what you say."

There was a good natured laugh at that as she grinned at him, "You fuckin' hick."

Peter just shrugged a bit as he finished his beer and ordered another one and another round of shots for them.

After those were taken, Isabella excused herself to find the bathroom and it was while she was in there that Emmett and Rose showed up. Peter let Rose know where to find her and after she vanished down the hall, Peter and Emmett went over to where Jasper was talking to a few of the other boys from they knew from town.

When Isabella and Rose came back out, they went to the bar and did a shot together and Isabella ordered another beer. Staying at the bar for a little longer to finish the conversation they had started in the bathroom, Rose looked at her little Dolly and smiled as she went on and on about Peter this and Peter that. She was excited for her and gave herself a mental pat on the back for remembering to tell her to steal his hat.

They, however, turned to look that the guys just in time to see two little bodies saddle themselves right on up to the Whitlock brothers sending a wave of irritation straight to Isabella's core when she recognized the one hanging on Peter like fucking spider monkey. She didn't want to let it get to her, but damn it, it sure as fuck did.

Rose looked back and saw Dolly's face fall a bit and felt it necessary to pick it back up. "That's Charlotte or Char as she prefers these days."

The slight fall to her face turned dark with the remainder of the name and the last time she saw her. "Oh, we've met."

Blinking a little at the tone in her Dolly's voice, Rose decided the best way to get rid of it was to confuse the fuck out of the girl. So, falling back on southern sayings that the girl was still learning, Rose giggled a little, "I tell ya, that girl is as happy as a dead pig in the sunshine."

Blinking at that, Isabella looked over as Rose and wrinkled her nose a little as a giggle came out of her mouth, "what?"

Rose tittered a little, "means she's an idiot." She then fill the girl in on the story on the town hussies."Two summers ago, she went to visit her daddy up in Dallas. Left a b-cup, came back with those monstrosities. Been barkin' up the wrong tree ever fuckin' since. She's a sweet talkin' little thing, but a little wet behind the ears." Then she nodded to the other girl that was trying to be all over Jasper while rolling her eyes again, "and that's Mary Alice. She showed up one day 'bout four years ago and hunkered down with the very first man that opened the door. Poor ol' Mr. James certainly bit off more than he could chew but he's just too kind hearted of a man to put a lady out with nowhere to go; or claimed to have nowhere to go anyways. Even since she first laid eyes on poor Jasper she has nippin' at them heels like a rabid wolf. Jazz don't take too kindly to it, but if his momma ever found out that he misspoke to a lady, she would knock his teeth down his throat. He deals with it because of that but he got his eye on this little honey from the next town over."

Isabella grimaced a little at the thought of that, picturing exactly how he would look without teeth and felt really bad about it when she snorted at the image having met the woman and knowing that she would actually do it.

Rose smiled at the sight of her little Dolly finally seeming to be happy, even if the happiness was only gonna last till the whisky wore off. Leaning towards Dolly, she nudged shoulders with her, "wanna go fuck up their night?"

An overly enthusiastic look over took Isabella' face as her eyes light up, "what do you have in mind, Sugar Pie?"

An elated laugh came from Rose's lungs at the horrible southern twang of her Dolly. Once she settled down she grinned, "Well now, that had to be just about the worst Scarlet O'Hara voice I ever did hear, Dolly. Points for tryin' though. Give it a little more time and you'll get your accent."

Once Rose stopped laughing again, she stood up and turned to her Dolly, taking off Isabella's hat, putting it between her teeth and, after taking out the half ponytail in her hair, used all ten fingers and began to quickly run them through her hair, messing it all the fuck up while at the same time giving it a lot of body. Once she was satisfied, Rose put the hat back on her head and crouched down, tugging and pulling certain sections of hair to make the hat lay right and give Isabella the 'look'.

Once she deemed herself done, Rose stood and pulled Isabella up with her. Grasping her shoulders, Rose locked eyes with her dolly, "You just follow my lead here, Dolly. This is gonna be a hoot -n-nanny."

Linking arms, the two girls walked across the floor to go teach a couple of little sluts a lesson or two.

 ***X***

Peter was doing just about everything in his fucking power not to lose his shit at the moment because he knew if he did he would have the wrath of his momma in his head before he could blink. He had tried every last thing he could think of to the little twit to realize that he had no interest in her what so fucking ever but the stupid bitch just wouldn't take the nice hint. And now that he had the girl he wanted on his arm for the night, that could show up at pretty much any fucking time, the LAST thing he wanted was for her to see him with some other girl hanging all over him.

Just as he was about to throw caution to the wind and get a little more forceful with the bitch, he happened to look up and see Rose and his girl heading their way. Looking down at 'Char' he suppressed a smirk. By the looks on their faces they were looking to either get laid or cause a whole mess of trouble and he wasn't entirely sure what his preference was at the moment.

Catching his brother's eye, he jerked his chin out calling Jasper's attention to the approaching ladies and winked when Jasper snorted a little. Words without speaking passed through their eyes, both looking forward to whatever was about to go down.

Once the girls were close enough to hear him over the music playing, Peter tipped the brim of his Stetson to them, "Well, Howdy there, Little Darlin', Rose."

Feeling Rose flex her arm, Isabella took her cue and smiled a wide one, "Well, hey there yourself, Cowboy. Rosie here was telling me all about how well you ride. Can't wait to see for myself."

There was a cough and a gag from beside the girls drawing their attention to Emmett as he choked and sputtered on the beer he HAD been drinking.

Peter just smirked at her and played along with her, "That a fact, Sugar Britches? I certainly can't take all the credit there. I do have one hell of a stallion."

Having seen the actual stallion, she certainly couldn't disagree with that. However, keeping with the part, Isabella winked at him. "Bet he's a beautiful one too. Think you'll let me pet him?"

Swallowing the groan at that, Peter grinned, "whenever you feel obliged, Little Darlin'. He's a sucker for a pretty girl with soft hands."

Throughout the entire conversation, Rose was trying SO hard not to laugh. She certainly had not expected her little Dolly to be quite so crass, but it was the absolute cutest thing to see. It also didn't hurt that Charlotte was creating a new shade of red with every word spoken.

When she had finally reached the end of her rope, Char stepped away from Peter's side and got between him and the little bitch trying to steal her man. Glaring at her, Char sneered, "Why don't you go'n back where you can from ya stupid Yank."

Silence.

Isabella turned to her and slowly slid a brow up her forehead to the brim of her hat, "Why don't you fucking bite me ya biggity bitch?" Taking a step closer, Isabella stood toe to toe with the bottle blonde once again looking for a go. Keeping her voice even and cool, "Remember that the sun don't shine on the same dog's tail all the fucking time. Call me that again and you'll be as busy as a stump-tailed cow in fly time spittin' teeth, get it?"

Rose's hand came up and covered her mouth and her eyes went wide.

Emmett just stared on with wide eyes.

Alice stood there blinking at the girl.

Jasper snorted.

Peter brought his hand up to his mouth and bit his index finger to keep from laughing while mouthing 'damn' against his skin.

Char's glare darkened as her voice lowered, "Don't be gettin' too big for them britches, Bitch."

Isabella just smirked, "Least I know when I'm not wanted, Hussy, and that every once and awhile you need to do a root touch up. You look like a two toned goat that had one too many kids."

Char let out the most god awful screech before whirling around and stomping away, a wide eyed Alice following behind her, calling out for her to wait.

Isabella watched as the girls stomped away for a second before cupping her hands around her mouth and called out, "Watch out for the 'Hoe-down', Sugar Pie; wouldn't you to pop!"

The remaining four people stood staring at her for a minute before Emmett started to snicker then full on belly laugh, "Jesus Christ. That last one was fuckin' perfect, Little Lady."

Isabella just giggled a little and shrugged, "I have absolutely NO idea what the fuck most of what I just said was. I heard Uncle Marsh say cow things to a farm hand before and she reminded me of this goat that Uncle Marsh has had for years that has had like, seven kids so she almost walks on her tits."

Peter groaned a bit as he reached a hand out and, after grabbing his girl's wrist, pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her back and lacing his fingers together. A smoldering look entered his eyes as he looked at his girl, watching as she looked off to where Char and Mary Alice went, a light glare on her face.

After a minute or so she turned her face up to him and cocked a brow, "You ain't ever done anything for her to be all stalker wanna be with you, have you?"

Cocking a brow right back at her, "beg pardon?"

"I told you what happened at the rodeo with her and that other chick when you came to my house for dinner, remember?"

Rolling his head on his shoulders a few times, he recalled something about it, but not the whole conversation that pertained to Char. Shaking his head, "not really no. I tend to not really pay the damnedest bit of attention to anything' that has to do with her. I think I have said like, ten words to the bimbo over the last three years. However, I have told you that I don't even raise my voice to lady, no matter how they act." Jerking his head towards the bitch in question, "that just happens to be a side effect of being raised to be nice to ladies... no matter what." Then he smirked at her, "you jealous, Little Darlin'?"

Glaring at him, Isabella cocked a brow, "what would you have done if the situation was reversed?"

There was no need to think about that on his part, "I'da laid him out. 'Corse, I ain't got a problem admitting I'ma jealous and over protective sumbitch though, and I won't give a fella a warning 'fore I break bones." Leaning down and putting his forehead on hers, he lowered his voice while looking in her eyes, "the only arm my girl hangs on is mine. You got any problems, now's the time to say so, Little Darlin'. I ain't ever had any issues fightin' for what I want."

Moving his hands down to hers, he laced his fingers with hers on both hands before wrapping his arms back around her, "I don't do nothin' half assed, never have. I also don't start nothin' I don't intend to finish. I make my intentions clear from the git-go, no matter what those intentions might be. I ain't had an actual titled girlfriend since I was teenager because I don't play games. I'm too old for that kind of bullshit but I want to you to be my girl. Once this fuckin' cast comes off in a few weeks, I want you to come with me when I travel because I wanna look at ya whenever I want and not just when I happen to be in the area. I wanna hear ya cheerin' me on when I ride. I wanna finish teachin' you to ride. I'm in this for the long haul, Little Darlin', but I want back what I put in. If ya can't, or won't, give me what little I ask for, ya need to tell me now."

Isabella blinked at him a little before sighing, "how do you know you want all that with me when you don't really even know me?"

Peter just shrugged a bit, "We got our whole lives to find out the finer details, Little Darlin'. If I have learned anything from my profession, it's that when you want somethin', you go for the whole hog" knowing that she would probably take exception to the metaphor, he continued before she could, "you give it everything you got 'cause one false move and you can lose it all." Finally pulling back a bit but still looking in her eyes, "This is all I need to know. I really like you and I want to know everythin' 'bout you and I don't wanna learn it over the phone." Giving her a smile and poking the tip of her nose, "Think about it, Little Darlin'. You got till this cast comes off to decide."

Isabella cocked her head to the side, already knowing that come a month from then, she wasn't going to be able to say goodbye, "How far north do you usually go?"

Peter blinked at her a few times before asking, "what?"

Isabella just shrugged a bit, "If I'm gonna be running all over the country with some guy, I'm pretty sure there is an unwritten rule about my daddy needing to know about it and I'm also pretty sure he's gonna wanna meet him."

Smirking the most panty soaking smirk she had ever seen, Peter cocked a brow at his girl, "Just like that? What 'bout all that shit 'bout not knowin' each other yet?"

A challenging look sparked in her eyes, "I thought you said we had our whole lives to figure that out?" Then she shrugged, "'Sides, you only live once, right? Why not do it in such a way that the church wants to picket your funeral? To another point, we still have about a month before you get your cast off, we got time to figure out the big stuff before then."

Letting go of one of her hands but using the arm that was still around her to pull her flush with his chest, he used his now free hand to crook a finger under her chin and tilt her head back and turn her face up to his, a wide range of emotions swirling in his eyes as he looked in hers. "You ain't gonna regret this, Little Lady." And dipping his head down, he sealed the deal, their agreement, with a kiss.


	6. Chapter 6

As time passed and got closer to the day that Peter was set to see the doctor for his medical clearance to ride again, he and his girl spent most of their free time together; so much so that her aunt and uncle and his parents also noticed. One or the other was nearly always at the other's house. They never really did anything that gave clues as to the seriousness of the budding relationship, but none of the four older adults could fine a single thing bad about how close they were getting. Marshal and Steff were elated that their niece was actually, finally, smiling like they remembered and Jim and Bev thought the world of the girl and the impact she had on their younger son. As a matter of fact, they figured they had her to thank for their hell raisin' son had managed to go for long at home without them getting a call from the jail.

Peter was just enjoying listening to his girl talk about her time in school, her friends back home, this guy Jake he was actually really looking forward to meeting, and the way she spoke about her daddy reminded him of how he spoke of his mama when he really got going. She didn't talk about her much, something he could understand after the first time she told him about her, so he didn't press her for too much, just the random question that she would willingly answer if she knew it.

Peter was set to get it cast off in two days but he pushed his departure back because his mama wanted him to stay for the weekend so she could have a Barbecue before he left since he wouldn't be there for his birthday this year. Never one to turn down him mama's barbecue and everything that it entails, he was quick to agree to her terms after he wrangled the promise of her apple pie out of her.

They had talked about how she was gonna tell her guardians that she was leaving with him in a week when he went back out on the road. He had already registered for different events over the next six weeks and apparently, the return of Peter 'Witty' Whitlock from medical leave had sold out nearly every arena he was set to ride at. She had been absolutely astonished at that but he had simply shrugged it off saying that he had been doing this a long time and you don't as long as he has and not acquire a following. He had also made it a point to make sure she knew that he was only interested in hearing her voice calling his name. Peter loved his fans, he really did, he wouldn't be as big a name and get into half the shit it did without them, but he could certainly do without the groupies.

In the end, they had agreed that the most straightforward way was probably the best and Isabella decided she was gonna tell them that night when she got home to get it over with instead of waiting for the last minute. The last thing she wanted was to hurt their feelings or anything like it.

Currently they were in Peter's room stretched out on his bed, Isabella reading a book while Peter was reading over a packet of rules and regulation for the arena he was gonna be at first when his girl decided she was tired of the quiet and snatched them out of his hands. He didn't move a muscle, his hands still up like he was still holding the papers, an amused smirk of his face as he watched her wave the papers in his face. Moving his eyes from the packet to her, he cocked a brow, "Somethin' on ya mind, Little Darlin'?"

Tossing the papers on his end table, she moved around and sat on his lap and put her chin in her palm before whining, "I'm bored."

Propping himself up on his elbows, he smiled at her, "that a fact? Well, whatcha wanna do?"

Giving a rough shrug of her shoulders, She shook her head a bit, "I don't know. I just know I'm bored."

Peter hummed a little before looking out the window and then at his watch, "Well, if ya want, and we leave now, we can make the trip to town and make the drive in before the show starts."

Eyes lighting up, she squealed a bit at the offer, "I haven't been to the drive in, in forever."

Giving his hips his girl was sitting on a light buck, "Well, come on then. Like I said, we gotta leave now if we gonna make it on time."

Leaping off him, Isabella whirled back around to face him, "Are we gonna bring anythin' with us?"

Shaking his head a little and smiling a little at the thickness her accent had gotten to in the months she was in town, he glanced at her, "that's what they created concession stands for. We'll bring blankets and stuff for the truck bed, but we don't have the time for much more than that." Peter cocked his head to the side and tried to remember if the air mattress that he kept in the bed was there or if he had taken it out. When he couldn't from the life of him remember, he shrugged and planned on it not being there as he and his girl pulled the blankets and pillows from his bed.

After a quick stop off at the linen cupboard for a couple more, they were headed down stairs, making a quick stop in the kitchen for a couple of six packs. They were actually for Saturday, but he figured he would just replace them later.

As Peter was loading the blankets and things into the truck bed, he paused and turned to the front of the drive when he saw his parents pull in. After closing the hatch to the steel box, he turned and leaned on the side of the truck as they pulled up next to their truck was stopped, he went to his mama's door and opened it for her, giving her a hand out.

Smiling up at her youngest, "why thank ya, Sugar Pie." Once she was out, "You and Isabella headed out, Peter?"

He nodded to her, "Yes Ma'am. We headed to the show tonight."

"Well, that sound nice. I hate to be a bother, Sugar, but before you go, would you mind givin' your pa a hand right quick? I swear, he stubborn as a ol' mule and I worry 'bout him hurtin' his back again."

Smirking at his mama, he just nodded, "No problem Mama. Show me what you need me to carry and where you want it."

All she ended up needing him to carry was the half steer and half pig for the, apparently, HUGE barbecue she was having on Saturday because Jasper had shown up to help with the rest of the bags of veggies, fruit and junk foods. He did try to help finish taking in the groceries but he was shooed away by his mama telling him they were gonna miss their movie if they didn't get on the road and that Jasper was more then capable of carrying a few bags. So with a kiss to his mama's cheek, he and his girl were on their way to town.

They got to the drive in just before dark just as the previews started giving them about ten minutes to get the bed set up, so he left her to that and he went to concession stand, coming back with a whole mess of crap since neither of them had eaten much that day and he was fucking starving and, for as little as the girl was, his Little Darlin' could eat just about as much as he could. Where the hell it went, he couldn't tell ya, but the girl could eat and though it was strange, it was something he adored about her. That 'I'll just have a salad' shit when out to eat annoyed the ever living shit out of him. The way he saw it was if they was supposed to eat rabbit food, the little Betty would have been born a fucking rabbit.

His favorite thing she had done thus far when out was about a week ago. He took her to a new steakhouse that had just opened and when she ordered a steak, the waiter asked her how she wanted it cooked. She looked at him with this innocent little smile and said, "Why dontcha just walk outside and take a chunk out of the cow's ass and put it on a plate. That'll be just fine." As it turned out, she has a iron and protein deficiency and has a hard time digesting red meat that was cooked past a certain point. The redder the meat, the easier it was on her stomach.

Getting back to the truck, Peter handed over the 'box' of food, smiling at her when she let out a little squeal followed by 'thanks I'm absolutely fuckin' starvin', and climbed up into the bed, sitting next to his girl against the a couple of beers out of the steel box next to him and handing one to Isabella, he threw an arm over her shoulders and pulled her right up next to him, settling in just as the movie got started.

If you were to ask him tomorrow what they went to see, he wouldn't be able to tell you. He had spent most of his time watching her. He would take a guess at it being a horror flick though since his girl spent the majority of the time with her face turned into his arm, every once and awhile a small gasp or the occasional shriek would come out as she jumped a mile before tightening her grip on his arm bringing a smile to his lips or a chuckle from his throat.

Little more than halfway through, he had pulled her into his lap and wrapped both arms around her, tucking her into his chest and kissing the top of her head before lowering his lips to her ear, "Jesus, Little Darlin', it's just a movie. Settle on down now, Punkin."

Looking up at him, Isabella shook her head, "why did we decide this was a good idea again? Why the hell would they play something like this?"

Peter smirked at her, "oh, that's an easy one, Sugar Britches. This is how the little ladies rope their fella into takin' 'em to the movies. They only give the name of the first movie to play then tell the poor bastard that they sat through the slasher so now they owe 'em the chick flick that comes on next."

Shaking her head and tucking it under his chin, she whimpered, "I don't like it."

Rolling his eyes a little, Peter smiled at the top of her head, "you wanna go? We don't gotta stay if it's gonna scare ya like this." When she nodded against him, he patted her ass and told her to gather up the trash and not look at the screen while he put the blankets up. Since it was Saturday, he was thinking the honky-tonk was a good idea.

 ***X***

When they pulled into the bar, it was already packed and the party of the night was already in full swing. After a stop at the bar, Peter led his Little Darlin' out to the dance floor, twirling her around to the opening bars of '3rd rock from the sun' by Joe Diffle.

By the time the song was over, Isabella was all smiles and giggles, the horror movie forgotten in lieu of being twirled around the floor. For the fact that he still had a boot cast on his foot, it certainly didn't slow him none. Matter of fact, if you didn't know it was there, you never would have guessed.

They danced for a few hours before Peter asked if she was ready to go. There was something he wanted to show her and the was probably gonna be his last chance to do so before they left. The week they were looking at was gonna be a busy one and time was gonna be too tight for him to be able to take her again and it was gonna be a good few months before they were gonna be back to the area.

The drive was about twenty minutes before Peter pulled off the main road and onto a dirt path, staying on that for a few miles before the trees cleared and the path opened up to a small lake out in the middle of the woods. Looking at his Little Darlin', Peter winked at her before cutting the engine but keeping the radio on and getting out of his truck and going to open her door.

Isabella just stared at the picture the scenery made; the moon reflecting off the water, the fireflies twinkling across the field and lake; it looked like something off a painting, it was beautiful.

Opening her door and picking her up out of her seat like he always did, Peter smiled at his girl as he set her on her feet and turned to look over the area. This was his favorite time to come here and the best part, it was on the back end of his parent's land so there was literally no one to worry about, except maybe Jasper, but a quick text to him and that worry would be gone too.

Looking back to her, Peter jerked his head back a little, "g'on now, I know you wanna chase them bugs."

She did too. Catching fireflies was something she hadn't done since she was a kid so with a giggle, she popped up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips before ducking under his arms and tearing across the field to where there were thousands of the little fuckers just ripe for the pickins.

Peter chuckled a little before calling after her, "careful now, Little Darlin'; there all kinds of rodents that dig holes out there." He snorted when she called back some sort of nonsense and turned to the truck bed and grabbed a couple of blankets out and setting them on the ground before pulling out his phone and sending that text to his brother, smirking a bit at the 'have fun' he got in return.

Looking after his laughing girl, Peter knelt down and pulled up the leg of his jeans and began the task of taking off that god forsaken boot, moaning in near orgasmic bliss as he dug his nails into his skin, his eyes rolling up into his head and sliding closed. He couldn't fucking wait till he didn't have to put the fucker back on 'cause it itched like a mother fucker. Turning to sit on his ass, he kicked his actual boot off, took off his sock, pulled his shirt off and dug his cigarettes out of his pocket, lighting one up and leaning on his palms, looking out over the water while his girl got the kid in her out.

Isabella ran around the field for a few minutes, catching and releasing bug after bug before she grew bored of that and turned to head back to the lake, stopping short at the sight that met her eyes. She had thought there wasn't gonna anything to top the scene of the water and field, but she was dead wrong. Peter was lounging on a blanket bathed in the moonlight in nothing but his jeans and his black hat she was positive he never took off baring that time she took it from him. The shadows covering his body made his already defined muscles stick out all the more allowing her to count the six pack he called abs even from the distance she was from him. His hat was low on his forehead shrouding his face completely in shadow until he took a hit of his cigarette, lighting it in a rosy hue. He was the picture of relaxation and serenity.

Feeling eyes on him, Peter turned to his girl and pushed his hat up a bit out of his eyes, smirking a wide one at the gobsmacked look on her face. Finishing his cigarette and flicked the butt off to the side, he took off his hat, stood up and began to unbuckle his belt before undoing the button and stripping down to his boxers that he was only wearing because he had planned on bringing her here regardless of what they did that night. Winking at his girl, he took off towards the water, grabbed ahold of the rope swing and soared out over the water and letting go with a 'yeehaw' before splashing into the lake.

By the time he surfaced, his girl was at the water's edge. Shaking his head hard to get his hair out of his face, he called out, "come on in, Little Darlin', this shit feels great."

She shook her head, "I ain't doin' that."

Chuckling a little he tilted his head to the right, "There's a dock few feet yonder. Come on, Sugar Britches, don't be makin' me swim by myself now."

Giving him a look that he had come to understand was calling him an asshole, he watched as his girl twirled on her toes and went over to the blanket, pulling her tank off on the way there. She sat down and took off her boots and socks, before wiggling out of her painted on jeans and after taking off the hat he had bought her few weeks back, he watched as she trotted over to the dock, calling out to him, "I'ma be pissed if this is cold" before taking a flying leap off the end of the dock.

Shaking his head a little, he swam over to where she landed, rearing back a bit when she surfaced so he didn't run into her.

She turned to him and ran her hands down her face to get the water out of her eyes and just looked at him a moment before grinning and splashing at him. As he was turned away, she giggled and made her escape from retaliation

Peter whipped back around at the sounds of her splashing and dove for her ankle, "Oh, no you don't, Girly." Giving her a light tug back, he swam around in front of her before taking her wrist and pulling her to him. Crooking a finger under her chin, he cocked a brow at her, "Now, that wasn't nice."

Setting her hands on his shoulders, she just continued to grin at him and giggled a bit, "but it was funny."

Wrinkling his nose at her a bit, "ha ha." Then dipped his head and took her lips with his. When he felt her arms slide around his neck, he tilted her head back a little more before letting go of her chin altogether so he had a free hand to help tread water and keep them from going under since he wasn't quite able to touch the bottom where they were. Letting go of her wrist, he grabbed behind her knee and hiked it up over his hip, groaning a little when she followed with the other one and squeezed her thighs and pressed herself closer to him.

Isabella had no idea how it happened, but out of nowhere, her back was pressed against one of the posts to the dock, her hands taken from around Peter's neck and being restrained above her head in one of his arching her back at from the odd angle.

Now that he had use of his feet, Peter let go of his girl's leg and set it on her hip, pulling her even harder against him as he pressed against her. Tilting his head slightly, he nipped at her bottom lip, a groan escaping when she parted her lips for him. There was no second guessing, no trepidation on his part. He dove head first into the kiss, dominating her tongue with it came out to play and taking full possession of her mouth when she submitted.

He about came undone when she rolled those hips of hers against him.

Letting go of her hands, he wrapped both his under her thighs and turned to leave the water, never breaking the kiss. On dry land be walked with a slight limp due to the added weight and lack of support for his ankle, but he made it the blanket before he set his girl on her feet. One hand on the small of her back, he guided her to lay down, grabbing his jeans and moving them out from under her so they had a chance to stay at least a little dry but still kept them in reach because if they kept on like they were, he was gonna need 'em.

Reaching the point that they would normally get doused in cold water for one reason or another, Peter threw all caution to the wind, reaching behind his girl's back and, after a short wrestling match with the wet clasp of her bra, got it undone and pulled it off her, tossing it up into the truck bed so they would be able to find it later.

Pushing himself up on his hands, jade green eyes smoldered they locked on liquid dark chocolate, voice deep and a little shaky, "If you change your mind, I'll stop, but I ain't gonna lie, I ain't gonna like it so if you don't want to go no further, now's the time to tell me."

She wasn't gonna stop shit, and the look in her eyes told him that much. It was only with Herculean effort he swallowed the 'Oh, thank god' before dipping his head down and took one of her perky peaks in his mouth, lightly raking his teeth across it before swirling his tongue and giving it a suck. After paying ample attention to one, he switched to the other as one hand slowly slid down her side making her jolt a little when he found a ticklish spot. Filing that away for later, his hand continued its path down, over her hip and across her thigh to its final destination of the back of her knee, tightening his grip, he hiked it back up over his hip before rolling his hips against hers.

Leaving the peaks and traveling the valley, Peter lightly kissed, nipped and drug the tip of his tongue down her torso, letting it dip down into her belly button before continuing to the brim of her tiny little boy shorts. Sitting up on his hunches, he looked up at her, smirking a little at the picture she made as he took the sides of her underwear in his grip and giving the wet fabric a tug to get it over her hips and started down her never ending legs before tossing them up in the truck bed too.

Dropping back down on his hands over her, Peter resumed his actions, dipping his head down and biting at her hip before moving lower, dragging his lips across her wet flesh... only for her thighs to slam shut right before he made it to his final destination.

Lifting his eyes to hers, he watched as she shook her head a little, a smirk pulling at his lips when her airy voice reached his ears, "Dude, gross. I just got off my period and you know it."

With a tiny shrug, he set his hands on her knees to pull them back apart, stretching out along her body, his nose right above hers, "suit yourself" then kissed her again. It didn't take a second before they were at war with each other's mouths as Isabella brought her feet up to Peter's hips and, using her toes, started the task of pushing his soaked boxers down his thighs.

Once his boxers were to his ankles, Peter just kicked them off, not giving a damn if he ever found them again as one hand searched for his jeans. Once they were located, he pulled his wallet out of the back pocket and, after a little fishing, found the condom he was after. Pulling back a bit, he chuckled against his girl's lips when she wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to keep him right where he was.

Tugging back a little harder and breaking her hold on his neck, he brought the wrapper to his mouth and tore it open with his teeth, winking at her when he saw the spark of understanding in her eyes. As much as he liked the girl, he wasn't quite ready to be a daddy just yet.

Raising up a bit, he went to roll the condom on only for her to take it from him and do it. He would be lying if there wasn't a flash of male pride when he saw her eyes go a little wider at the size. He had told her there was nothing little about his prick, so this shouldn't have been as surprising to her as it seemed to be.

Looking her in her eyes as he lined himself up, "ya ready, Little Darlin'?" Taking the fact that she just lifted her head and kissed him as confirmation, he began to push forward, slowly at first until the head had passed then with a roll of his hips, he was sheathed to the hilt, hip to hip.

He would like to say that their first time together was slow and sweet lovin'... but it wasn't. He pulled back and she rolled her hips hard and high, throwing any thoughts about slow and sweet out of his head as her hips slammed against his. Hissing through his teeth, he locked eyes with his girl before pulling back to the head and thrusting back against her with enough force to move her back a bit.

Her eyes rolling up in her head, Isabella rolled her hips against him, trying to find that perfect angle of her body to get him right where she wanted him. Locking her ankles behind his back, she folded herself into a ball, a whorish worthy moan coming from her throat when he hit the spot buried so deep in her body it took a real man to find.

As he continued his movements, Peter was completely overcome with the sight of the full moon light reflecting off her eyes making them shine like chocolate diamonds, emotions running a mile a minute through them to fast for him to catch. Dipping his head, he pressed his lips to hers as he ran the tips of his fingers down her side, over her hip and along her thigh before gripping it lightly and pulling it higher up his hip, going deeper inside.

Slowing slightly but not lessening the force, his hips rolling in time with hers, his eyes sliding shut as a soft moan slipped from his throat. Lowering himself to his forearm, he slipped his fingers into her hair, the closing of his fingers giving it a slight tug at the roots.

Lips coming apart, a gasp came from both of them as they stared into each other's eyes. If you were ever to ask either of them, this would be the moment that they would say they fell for the other.

Pressing his forehead to his girl's, Peter arched into her, her head going back and he took full advantage of the action, his lips finding her throat, pressing a soft kiss there before sliding along to the side of her neck before scraping his teeth across it.

He could feel her beginning her climb to the peak of pleasure, her walls beginning to flutter slightly, trying to keep him in as he pulled back again. Eyes locking, Peter once again picked up the pace, the force of hips growing as well. It didn't take but four more thrusts of his hips before the serenity of the night was broken by the call of ecstasy falling from Isabella's lips, followed shortly thereafter, by one from his when the vice like grip she had on him milked him for all he was worth.

Breathing hard, Peter rolled off her, lying on his back as he struggled to catch his breath. Rolling his head to look at her, he was just barely able to smother the smirk at what he saw. Even in the dark he could see the flushed tint to her cheeks, the sweat that replaced the lake water on her skin. As his eyes roamed her body, they paused a moment too long on her tits as they bounced a bit as she caught her own ragged breath, eyes moving up and down right along with them only to snap up to her face when she giggled a little.

"See something you like, Cowboy?"

Snorting slightly, Peter slid an arm under her shoulders and rolled her to his side, pressing a kiss to her brow, "Naw, whatever gave you that idea?"

Giggling a little more, she hit his chest, mumbling something to the tune of 'jerk' before snuggling closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder. Looking at the fireflies for a moment, she looked up at him, "it's getting late. I should probably be getting home."

Peter looked down at her, brow cocked, "got plans tonight, Little Darlin'? You never want to go home."

There was a spark of mischief in her eyes as she shrugged a little, "yeah, if my boyfriend tried to call, there's shit for cell service out here. He'll never get through."

Eyes narrowing slightly, he rolled back over, his upper body hovering over her, "he can kiss my ass."

Not bothering to keep the amusement out of her voice as she wrapped her arms around his neck, Isabella smirked, "now who's jealous?"

Peter just smirked, "told ya already, Punkin, I ain't got a problem with breakin' the bones of some poor bastard." Nuzzling noses with her a little, "I don't share well, ain't ever had. I'll knock a fella cockeyed for looking at my lady and not think twice about it."

At that, Isabella pushed him back a little and sat up, turning towards him, a serious look on her face, "please, don't go all caveman on me, Peter. I really don't know if I can handle that right now."

That was when he decided that if he ever saw her ex again, he was gonna beat him to death instead of shooting him. Sighing a little, he pushed himself to lean on his elbows, lifting a hand and cupping her face, "Listen Sugar, I already told ya that I got a temper and that I'm a jealous sumbitch and that isn't somethin' that just changes over night, now. I also told ya that I would never take either out on ya. I understand that ya don't believe me, I get it, but if ya gonna be comparin' me to a sack of shit that don't know his head from his ass, we gonna have a slight problem. Tell me, have I once in the time we been spendin' together ever givin' ya a reason to actually be scared of me?"

Lowering her eyes to the blanket and shaking her head, "well, no, but..."

Cutting her off, "or have I in the last month givin' you a reason to doubt that I never do what he did?"

Again she shook her head, not saying anything before he did, "I get that you needin' time to cope with all that and that you needin' some time to get to really know me, but I am here to tell ya, ya ain't ever got a reason to ever think that I would be anything like him. I know it's my word against your personal experience and that it's an uphill climb for me to overcome that, but if constantly waitin' for it, you ain't really givin' me a fair shot at it."

Dipping his head to catch her eyes, "I can say till I'm blue in the face that you ain't gotta worry but it's up to you to believe it. I'll give ya all the time ya need to fight ya demons, Sugar Britches. I just wish ya let me help ya with it instead of waitin' on me to become one, too."

Looking away from his penetrating green eyes, Isabella sighed lightly. Biting her lip and taking a deep breath, he looked back at him, "I'm sorry, I really am, but it isn't as easy as you try and make it sound."

Dropping his head back on his shoulders, Peter groaned, "I wasn't tryin' to make light of the shit, Sugar." Looking back at her, "All I'm tryin' to do is get you to understand that I don't take kindly at being compared to a thing like that and that I am here to help ya in any way ya need me too. Will I fuck up a fella for makin' a pass at ya? Ya damn skippy I will. Will I take that out on you? Hell naw. Will I get pissed off if ya actually go along with the fucker? Yeah, I will BUT not to the extent that ya used to it goin'. I told ya I don't play games, I'll just break up with ya, not break ya. I ain't over the top possessive that ya ain't even allowed to talk to another guy. I don't rightly care who ya talk to as long it ends with talkin' and I know that you comin' home to me. I told ya, Sugar Britches, I don't ask much, just that if ya my lady, ya be my lady."

A small smile pulled at Isabella's lips as she nodded, "I can do that." Then she went to cuddle with Peter a little longer before she really did have to go home. After a moment, she snorted and looked up at him, "that had to be the most fucked up pillow talk in history."

Chuckling a little, Peter just kissed her temple before wrapping his arm around her and pulled her flush to his side, both of them quiet as they listened to the sounds of the night around them.


	7. Chapter 7

Peter was ripped out of his sleep by two things, his girlfriend's shriek of surprise and the freezing cold water that was just thrown on them.

Shooting up to a sitting position, he looked around until his eyes landed on his brother and the bucket in his hands. Glaring at him, "I'ma gonna fuck ya up." Using both hands to wipe his face off before running his fingers through his hair, wincing a little with he found a tangle, "What the hell was that about?"

Jasper tossed the bucket in his hands back into the truck bed where he got it from, he crossed his arms and glared, "If ya'll wanted to stay out all night, dontcha think it might have been a good idea to let someone know?" Nodding at Isabella, "her kin been callin' the house since nine this morning tryin' to find out if she alright." Jasper then groaned a little when she shrieked and leapt up, looking to the sky when it was apparent she hadn't any clothes on, looking back at his brother when she grabbed the blanket they were under to cover herself.

Peter made a noise as he grabbed the first thing he fingers touched, his hat, and covered himself with it and turned to where is girl was hanging out the open window of the truck trying to get to her phone. It was then that he dropped his head into his hand, remembering that he had left the radio playing and there was a very good likelihood that the battery was dead. "Fuck" looking at Jasper, "Did you drive or ride?"

Jasper tilted his head to the truck next to his before he smirked, "ya killed the battery again, didntcha?"

Peter shrugged and shook his head a little, "I don't know yet but prolly."

Snorting and shaking his head, "get up and dressed. I'll jump ya so you can get the little lady home before her uncle had a fuckin' heart attack."

That was when Peter's glare came back, "in what? Ya soaked my clothes ya dumbfuck."

Jasper just shrugged as he headed to his truck, "not my problem. Should've made that call last night, huh Dipshit?"

 ***X***

Later that afternoon, after both of them got read the Riot Act for staying out all night and not telling anyone, Peter and Isabella were back at the Whitlock ranch, Isabella on Laylonni as Peter continued to work with her on riding properly. She was doing really well in his opinion, she just got freaked out with anything faster than a trot. Trying to get her to overcome that was about to dive him nuts.

"It'll be alright, Little Darlin'. I promise. Laylonni ain't ever bucked no one off her and I doubt she about to start now with as old as she is. She ain't like Rocky, she won't jump the fence like he would. I warned ya she gonna feed off whatever you feelin' and if ya scared, ya gonna spook her and that is when accidents happen."

She looked over at him, her face drawn a bit, "it's a long way down, Peter."

He didn't dispute that, it was. However "it's gonna hurt worse if she rears and you fall off that way, Sugar Britches. You need to calm down."

"I can't help it if I'm scared Peter."

He leaned against the fence and kicked his booted foot on the bottom rung, draping his elbows over the top, "but you can help if she knows it. Take a deep breath and ease into it. She ain't gonna listen to you if you wound up like a music box, baby girl, and if she don't listen, you gonna get hurt." Once he saw her take a deep breath, he nodded, "tighten ya grip up on the reigns and give her a squeeze with your thighs. Once you do, don't let up on your hold but don't add to it."

Following the directions, she tightened her hands and tapped her feet to Laylonni's sides, giving a squeak when the horse started to speed up from a trot to a slow gallop.

"Don't do that, Sugar. You'll spook her."

Turning to look at Peter, Isabella gave him a look of terror making him sigh a little before stepping away from the fence and catching the bridle as Laylonni got within his reach, turning her around in a circle a few times as he eased her speed. Once she was stopped, he ran a hand along her nose as he looked up at his girl, "She ain't gonna hurt ya on purpose, Little Darlin'."

As he was about to continue that thought, he mama called from the back porch, "Peter, Sugar, the Doctor just called. Said if you can be there in a half hour he'll get ya in today and see 'bout that boot comin' off ya foot 'sted of tomorrow mornin'."

Nodding to her, Peter turned back to Isabella, "Ya wanna come along or do ya want me to drop ya off at home on the way?"

Letting Peter help her off Laylonni, she thought about it a minute, "I still have to talk to Uncle Marsh and Aunt Steffy about leaving with you next week. This is as good a time as any I suppose."

Giving her a wink, Peter pulled Laylonni towards the stable to get her put up before taking his girl home and head to the doctor to get the stupid fucking boot off finally.

 ***X***

After Peter pulled out of the drive, Isabella took a deep breath before heading up the steps and into the house, calling out for her aunt and uncle, heading to the kitchen when she heard the call back to her.

After grabbing a coke out of the fridge, she took a seat across from her uncle who was reading the paper. Working out in her head what she wanted to say, she looked up at him, "Uncle Marsh, can I talk to you about something?"

Without putting the paper down, he smirked a bit, wondering when she was finally going to tell him what he had already figured out. "When ya'll leavin'?"

Blinking at the paper, Isabella started a little at that but answered in a guarded voice, "Monday afternoon. How did you know that was what I was gonna say?"

Chuckling lightly, Marshal put the paper down and looked at his shocked as shit niece, "Isa-Bee, ya been spendin' every second of the day with that boy for the last month. Figurin' you were gonna wanna go with him when he left again was as easy as slidin' off a greasy log backwards, Sug. I was just wonderin' when you was gonna tell us, is all."

Tilting her head to the side a bit, "you don't mind?"

He snorted as he leaned back and crossed his arms, "You a big girl, Isabella, perfectly capable of making up ya own mind on what ya wanna do. Farbeit for me to tell ya ya can't do somethin' that you clearly gonna do with or without my say so. 'Sides, I ain't ya daddy. It ain't my place to tell ya 'no'. Ya came here to feel safe and it clear that Master Whitlock make you feel that." It was then that he leaned forward and pointed a finger in her face, "however, that boy do anythin' that you don't like, ya call me and me and his daddy whoop his ass."

Giggling a little, she got up from her seat and went to give him a hug. "You're the best, Uncle Marsh."

Smiling a little as he patted her back, "you always gonna be my little Isa-bee, no matter how old ya get. The only thing that matters to me is ya happy." Looking up at her when she pulled back, "If Peter makes ya smile, that's all I care 'bout. Just 'member what I said now. Ya call me and I'll be there, rifle in hand, to make it all better."

After another hug, Isabella went into the actual kitchen to help her aunt finish up dinner.

 ***X***

Pulling into the Doctor's office, Peter reached into the backseat and grabbed his long lost love of his cowboy boot and headed inside. He didn't wait but two minutes before he was called back to see the Doctor. After shaking hands, Peter sat on the bed in the room and began to take the boot cast off, the customary digging of his nails against his skin following just like ever other time it came off. Lifting his eyes to the doctor when he chuckled, he went right back to it. "Fucker itches somethin' fierce."

Smirking a bit, Dr. Smith batted Peter's hands away before he began to poke at different areas of the ankle, looking for any sign of discomfort in the young man. "I have heard that before. Never actually had to find out personally before."

Peter snorted, "ya don't want to, either." After a few minutes, "so, it comin' off?"

Dr. smith hummed a little before he turned the foot side to side a few times before letting go, "Looks like. I wanna get an x-ray to be sure but I ain't really seein' a need for you to keep it on right at the moment."

Letting out a sigh of relief, Peter followed the Dr. to the radiology area for the x-ray then back to his room where he waited for the final say on whether or not he was going to be losing the boot or not. If he didn't he was gonna be pissed.

It was about a half hour later when Dr. Smith came back in, a smile on his face, "Looks like you got lucky, Boy. I saw no reason as to why you need the boot any longer but I would advise waiting at least another week before you get in the way of another pissed off bull."

That was fine with him, he wasn't registered for anything for another ten days. Pulling on a sock before, FINALLY, slipping on the matching cowboy boot, he all but leapt off the bed. Shaking hands with the Dr. and a stop at the front desk to pay, Peter left and headed straight to his girl's house. Without the stupid boot on his foot, he could actually take her dancing and be able to bend his ankle.

When he pulled up to the Johnson farm, he gulped a little at the sight of Marshal sitting in a chair on the porch, his shotgun across his lap. Slowly cutting the engine, and getting out of his truck, a shiver ran his spine when he saw the smirk creep up on his face. Mentally squaring his shoulders for this, Peter walked up on the porch, "Isabella home?"

Marshal smirked even wider, "'Course she is. She ain't with you, is she?" Nodding to the railing across from him, he waited for Peter to take the hint and man the fuck up. Moving his gun to stand on the butt beside his chair, Marshal crossed his arms and looked Peter square in the eyes once he was right in front of him. "So, my little Isa-Bee tells me that she gonna go with ya when ya leave again. This true?"

Leaning back on the railing and putting his palms on the top and crossing his ankles, Peter nodded, "Yes Sir. That's the plan."

Nodding back, "I want a straight answer out you, Boy; what intentions you got with my niece? I get I ain't her daddy and you don't really answer to me, but her daddy a Yankee and don't realize we do things a little different down here; you ain't and know exactly what I'll do to ya if you hurt my girl."

That shiver in his spine was back. Without his permission, his eyes slid to the shotgun that was still well within the man's reach and gulped again. Looking back at him, Peter took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'ma be honest here, Mr. Johnson. I ain't got any idea. I ain't got any bad intentions but we have only been datin' for a month."

Brow sliding up his forehead, "yet you willin' to take my girl and go runnin' all over God's green Earth with her? You expect me to put my girl's safety and protection in your hands and you don't even know what you want out of your relationship with her? Are you out of your fuckin' mind?"

When put like that, he did kind of sound like it. But, at the same time, he knew he wasn't. Crossing his arms, Peter never moved his eyes from Marshal's, "Isabella and I talked 'bout this a lot, Mr. Johnson. It wasn't a spur the moment thing. As far as our relationship, you right, you ain't her daddy. I understand that ya want what's best for her. I want the same thing. However, what my intentions are is something that I really only need to be tellin' her daddy when I meet him. If you wantin' me to be tellin' ya that my intentions are marriage and the like, well, with all due respect, it a little soon to be talkin' 'bout that. If ya want me to tell ya I love the girl, little early for that too. What I will tell ya, all I'll tell ya, is that she means a great deal to me and I wouldn't hurt her if I was paid to. If that ain't enough for ya, g'on and shoot me but that's all ya gettin'."

Marshal looked at the young man that wouldn't break eye contact with him. There was something in his eyes that told him the boy was full of shit on at least one point he just made. The youngest Whitlock was smitten with his niece. After a moment, he stood and clapped Peter on the shoulder, "I certainly hope ya got your shit worked out by the time ya meet Charlie. He a cop and won't think twice 'bout puttin' a bullet in your head and gettin' rid of the body."

Peter froze as he watched Marshal head in the house. He didn't know how long he stood there before a small hand waved in front of his eyes. Jumping a bit, he moved his eyes to look at the brown eyed beauty that was looking up at him with amused concern on her face. Giving his head a shake, "Ya daddy a cop?"

The giggle came before she could stop it, "Chief of police, actually."

Looking at the roof of the porch, Peter groaned a little, "'course he is." Looking back at her, "anything else I should know?"

Shaking her head a little and giggling again, "You ain't got nothin' to worry about. My dad is gonna love you, I know it."

Peter smirked at her a little, reaching out and hooking his fingers through her belt loops and pulling her to him. Wrapping his arms around her and lacing his fingers together behind her back, he pressed a kiss to her lips before smiling at her, "that a fact, Sugar Britches. And just how you know that?"

Isabella just shrugged a little, "your name ain't Edward Cullen."


	8. Chapter 8

The few days that followed the conversation with Marshal about Isabella leaving to travel with Peter was a very busy for the both of them. There wasn't a whole lot of time for them to spend together since they both seemed to have a laundry list of shit to do before they left. Peter needed to work out accommodations for the both of them as well as finding boarding for Rocky. He had to send in the entry fees to the arenas that he was registered to ride at. His truck needed a tune up. His daddy kept him busy with chores and things around the ranch that needed done that he couldn't do on his own anymore and wanted done before both his boys left again. Rocky needed reshoed and to be seen by a vet if he was gonna be able to ride him in the few events that you don't draw for. He also had to call the cleaning staff that had been taking care of his own ranch during his absence to let them know that he would be headed up that way here soon enough. He was curious about how his lady was gonna take finding out that he actually owned his own home and hadn't told her about it yet.

As he was cleaning out a stall in the stable, a smirk tugged at his lips. She was gonna be pissed. He actually never thought much of her anger, it reminding him of this kitten he had as a kid. It would try to act all big and tough but it was still just a kitten. He hadn't taken any shit, but it made more noise than anything.

Dodging the hay coming at his head, he looked over at his brother in the next stall and cocked a brow in question. Jasper was leaning on the broom handle, he own brow raised, "just what the hell you gigglin' like a girl for?"

Smirking a little wider, he shrugged as he went back to what he was doing, "Wonderin' how my girl gonna take it with she finds out 'bout the ranch."

Jasper rolled his eyes and went back to his job, "she been here plenty Pete. She already saw it all."

Peter snorted, "naw, not this one. Mine."

Head popping back up, Jasper just stared at his little brother a moment before he found the voice he was looking for, "you hadn't told her yet?"

Shrugging again as he put the broom in his hands outside the stall before grabbing a hay bail and began spreading it around, "hadn't come up."

Jasper just shook his head a little, "she gonna kick your ass."

Pausing and looking over at him, Peter gave him an incredulous look, "you don't honestly think she thought I still lived at home with my mama, did you?"

"You give her any reason to think otherwise?"

He went to open his mouth only to pause a moment. No, no he had not. But he had enough faith in his girl's intelligence to figure out that he didn't, in fact, still live with his parents. Deciding it really didn't matter, he finished his stall before moving on to the next thing on the list... fixing the floor at the back of the loft.

"Damn; how the hell many times that floor need fixin'?" Moving to the back of the stable, he looked up at the spot that was supposed to be replaced and pursed his lips before sighing. Peeling his shirt off and, after wiping his face off with it, tossed it off to the side and grabbed a crowbar and hammer. With a roll of his shoulders, he began the climb into the only place that Hell is actually above you. Moving to the back where the damage was, he used the side of his boot to move the loose hay out of the way before crouching down and beginning the task of removing the seven planks his daddy wanted replaced.

He was lowering the fourth one down when he happened to look to the front of the stable and saw his girl walking in with a tray of sweet tea and Emmett behind her. Draping his arms over his thighs, he smiled at her, "Whatcha doin' here, Little Darlin'?"

After setting the tray in her hands down, she looked at him feeling her mouth go dry at the sight. As her eyes moved along his form, they caught sight of a single drop of sweat, following it as it slid down his neck, over his pecks, across the wash board he called abs before it got caught in the very well defined 'V' and vanished below his well worn and beat to fuck jeans.

Clearing her throat a bit and giving her head a shake, she looked at his face for once, "Your mama called me. She told me that your dad has you pretty much booked for the day and Rocky needs to go to the vet for his physical today if he is going to get it at all. So, I'm here to get him and brought you some extra help."

Grunting a bit, Peter took his hat off, slipping his fingers through his hair to slick it back then wiping his forearm across his brow before putting his hat back on. Looking at her with a very serious look, "do you even know how to trailer a horse, Sugar?" When he saw a light glare form on her face he held up a hand to keep her quiet a minute, "It's just a question, Little Darlin' so be gettin' all upset. You can actually HURT Rocky if ya don't know whatcha doin'."

Isabella blinked at him at that, "Oh, okay. No, I don't but Rose does and she's coming with me so I know where I'm going."

Nodding, Peter bent back and fished his truck keys out of his pocket and tossed them down to his girl, "careful now, Ya here?"

Catching the keys, Isabella just looked at them a moment before looking back up at Peter who had returned to the take of taking up floor boards. Blinking at him, "I get to take your truck?"

Peter shrugged as he handed down another plank, "it's just a truck, Sugar Britches. Don't rightly give a fuck about it. I got another one." Looking over at her, "Watch the gas and turns and, for Christ's sake, do not let Rosie drive if you wanna make it home alive. Girl's got a foot heavier than the bull that broke my ankle."

Emmett snorted at that but made no comment as Isabella grimaced, "I know."

Peter smirked and nodded to the back exit of the stables, "Rocky's out back in the corral and the trailer should already be hitched up. Thank ya, Little Darlin'. I'd give a hug but..."

Isabella giggled, "No, you keep your nasty ass far away from me right now." Giving him a smile and, after a bye to Jasper, Isabella went out the back to get Rocky.

 ***X***

It had taken the three boys till nearly dark to get everything done that Jim wanted done, done and then they were handed a different list by Bev so that the field by the lake was ready for the barbecue the next afternoon. It was well after dark by the time they once again got back to the house.

Sweaty and filthy, Peter and Jasper said bye to Emmett and went inside to get something to eat before they fought over who got to get a shower first. They were both laying on the table in the dining room when plates of food and a beer was put in front of them. Without sitting up they both replied 'thanks mama' only to receive a giggle that wasn't from their mom.

Peter picked his head up and saw his girl standing the there with an amused look on her face. Blinking at her, "whatcha still doin here, Little Darlin'? I figured ya went home hours ago when ya brought Rocky back."

Shaking her head, Isabella smiled at him, "Been here the whole time. After I gave you back your keys, I came to say bye to your mom and she asked if I would give her a hand doing prep work for the party tomorrow and since I didn't have anything else to do, I stayed." Then she giggled again, "either ya'll a bunch of pigs or she invited the whole damn town. And just so you know, if you want ANYTHING that is made with potatoes anytime in the next year, you're peeling them your damn self and you are just gonna have to deal with the flesh on an apple because I ain't peeling them either." Hearing her name called from the kitchen, she smiled at Peter again, "better eat so you can get to bed. You up before the cock tomorrow."

Peter watched as she trotted back into the kitchen, giving his head a small shake before digging into the piled high plate of beef and taters.

His girl wasn't wrong, his mama was in his room shaking him awake just before dawn. He was just getting out of the freezing cold shower to help wake him up when he heard his girl's voice downstairs with his mama and Daddy along with her Aunt and Uncle's voices. Groaning in his throat, he wondered to himself how the fuck she was so bright eyed and bushy tailed at the moment knowing she got less sleep than he did.

After pulling on a pair of jeans and socks, he just grabbed his shirt, tossing it over his shoulder, and picked up his boots before heading downstairs. Walking into the room, he didn't attempt to pretend to be more awake than he was as he flopped down into a chair across from his dad.

Mr. Whitlock smirked behind his paper as Isabella put a cup of coffee on the table for his son and nodded to her when she asked if he want a refill. After finishing his article, he put the paper down and crossed his arms, not bothering to wipe the smirk off his face, "Mornin' Son."

Peter looked at him over the brim of the cup at his lips, unable to hide the annoyance in his eyes. "Yeah, mornin' Pa." After drinking half the coffee in one go despite the burn it caused, He grunted a bit, "what am I doin' this mornin'?"

Rubbing his chin a bit with a humm, "Welp, ya mama told folks to be here 'round noon so the first thing that gonna need be done is gettin' the cow and pig ya mama got over the spit by the lake. Come here in a while, ya brother should be back from the run for tables and the like. Them gonna need set up. Marshal got a bed full of wood that gonna need to be unloaded." Taking a pause to thank Isabella when she gave him his breakfast, Jim thought for a moment longer before picking up his fork, "that be 'bout it, I reckon."

Oh goodie, sounds like a light mornin' load. Nodding to his Pa, "alright." Smiling at his girl when she gave him a plate and refilled his coffee, "Thanks, Little Darlin'."

Smiling back, Isabella looked a little embarrassed, "I just hope you like it. I haven't made biscuits and gravy in a while. Um, I made the biscuits last night but the gravy was after I woke up."

"I'm sure it's fine, Sugar."

There was a snort from across the table, "fine ain't gonna cut it. Don't tell ya mama, but this is better than hers."

Starting a little at that, Isabella beamed at Mr. Whitlock, kissed Peter's cheek and went back into the kitchen so she could help turning all the prep from the night before into actual dishes.

After eating and drinking the equivalent of a pot of coffee, Peter pulled on his boots, donned his hat and got Marshal's truck keys so he could unload the wood in the bed out by the lake. By the time he was done with that and back at the house to change trucks Jasper had gotten back. Telling him he would meet him out at the lake, he hitched up the smoker to his truck, loaded the meat for the barbecue in the bed and, after catching the bottle of water that was tossed to him by his girl, headed back to the lake.

Emmett showed up at the lake to help out about halfway through the set up, taking it upon himself to get the meat in the smoker before helping the brothers with the tables and chairs.

Around 11, Isabella and Rose pulled up with decorations and stuff to be put up since this was a combination with Peter's birthday. While the girls did that, the guys headed back to the house to begin loading the food and things into the trucks and change into their swim trunks.

By the time they were cleaned up and back at the lake with the food, people had already began to show up. Isabella and Rose unloaded the food while the boys took care of the coolers that held everything from bottled water to hard liquor. Peter actually snickered to himself as his girl's words from the night before surfaced in his mind.

 _Either ya'll a bunch of pigs or your mom invited the whole town._

What his little darlin' didn't know was that his family was infamous for their parties and he wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if the whole town did show up.

By one the party was in full swing and there was more than a few of the younger people already drunk due to never having white lightning before and not knowing to pace yourself with that shit. There was music playing and people both dancing and swimming. Others were snacking while the meat finished smoking. It was a damn fine time for everyone present.

After dinner was done and eaten, Isabella slipped away unseen by Peter, and went to the truck that her and Rose had originally came in and got the box out of the back seat and took it to Mrs. Whitlock, who smiled at her at took it. Setting it on the table, she opened the lid and nodded at the cake that was inside. It was white frosted with an edible picture of Peter on Rocky's back as the horse reared up on his hind legs. Over the picture but not covering Peter or Rocky, in red jell it read 'Happy birthday Peter' and below it in black jell it read 'Good luck, Witty'. Taking the pack of candles from Isabella, she put the 2 and 6 on the cake and lit them before picking the cake up..

Before Mrs. Whitlock turned around, Isabella stood on a chair and, putting her pinkies in her mouth, blew a high pitched and loud whistle catching everyone's attention.

A not quite as sober as he should have been in front of his mama Peter turned to see what the hell that was about only to snort a little as a goofy looking grin came to his face when he saw his mama holding a birthday cake in her hands. He hadn't actually been home for his birthday since he was twenty because if memory serves, he spent his 21st in Vegas and he was only still in town this time because he broke his ankle.

The others present started singing 'Happy Birthday' as Peter made his way through the crowd, blowing out the candles when the song was over and kickin' up a hoot and holler from them again. Smiling at his mom, Peter kissed her cheek, "Thank ya, Mama."

She just shook her head, "ya thank that Lady of yours, Sugar. I was just gonna bake ya an apple pie."

Turning those emerald eyes on the smug looking little lady next to his mama, "Thank ya kindly, Little Darlin'."

Isabella just smirked and shrugged a little, "it's just a cake, Peter." Then her eyes lit up, "what till ya see what I actually got ya for your birthday." Then she turned her head and cupped her hands around her mouth, "Hey Jasper."

Jasper looked over at her and nodded before he jogged over to one of the farther away parked trucks. With precision driving, Jasper backed the truck up to the crowd before hopping out and moving to the bed, grabbing the tarp that was over it and pulled it off revealing a bed full of bags and boxes.

Isabella went to the bed and grabbed a bag out of it, smacking Jasper's hands when he went to open the gate and shook her head, whispering for him to wait a second before he revealed the big thing she got him. Taking the bag to Peter, she handed it him with a smile, "this is only part of it."

Giving her a smile, he set the bag down and dug through the tissue paper until he found what was buried in it. Cocking a brow at her, he pulled out a pair of soft material black chaps that had fringe on the sides matching the older, beat to fuck and well broken in pair that he normally wore in competition.

While he had been preoccupied with the bag, Isabella let Jasper put down the gate and when Peter looked up to thank her, he froze at what he saw.

Front and center, right behind the gate was a brand new, black leather saddle with onyx black steel stirrups. Throughout the leather there was decals done in red stitching. The horn was made of black jasper that had red swirling around in the stone, PAW, his initials, carved into the top. Across the back of the skirt, dead center behind the Cheyenne roll 'Witty' was stitched onto the leather in crimson.

There was a round of appreciative whistles when the others got a look at it, but Peter was now looking at his girl and the small smile on her face. She bit her bottom lip a little before looking in his eyes, "told ya ya look better in black."

He was gobsmacked at that, knowing just how expensive a custom saddle like that coats.

When he didn't say anything for a minute, self-doubt and a spark of fear entered her eyes. Looking at the saddle for a second, she looked back at Peter, tripping over her tongue a few times before she got the words out, "If you don't like it, I can probably have it..."

Snapping out of his shock over the present, he cut her off by swinging her up in his arms and twirling her in a circle. Once she was on her feet again, he grinned at her, "like don't even cover it, Sugar, I love it."

A beaming smile lit her face and she met him halfway when he dipped his head down and his lips to hers, much to the enjoyment of the drunk crowd around them.

Pulling back and giving her a wink, Peter pulled his now blushing lady to his chest and got a better look at his new saddle. Looking back at Isabella, "when did you have the time to have this made?"

Giving him a small smile, "I had it commissioned about a week and a half ago and Jasper picked it up this morning."

Cocking a brow at her, "was that why you was at the house so early?"

She nodded, "yeah, I had to give Jasper the final payment and paperwork for it before he went to pick up the tables and chairs. He dropped it off with Emmett on his way back so you wouldn't see it."

Knowing her as well as he did, he cocked a brow at her, "what ain't ya tellin' me?"

Looking everywhere but him, "I might, or might not, have used the fact that you told me you wouldn't do anythin' without your mama's say so to my advantage; and I also might, or might not, have put a whisper in her ear about having it made and using a birthday party for you to keep you in town long enough for it to get done."

Smirking wide at her, "ya might have done that, huh?"

Giving him the most innocent look she could muster, "or might not. Don't forget the might not."

There was a titter next to them, drawing both their attention to Mrs. Whitlock as she smiled at them, "hush it up, Boy. Had I not gone on with the poor girl, you would have jumped off the minute that boot came off. Putting off a leavin' for a few more days ain't nothin' horrid now. 'Sides, ya should commend the girl for usin' all her advantages." Then she turned to Isabella, "came out just like you described, Sugar. It's beautiful."

Giving her a small grin, "thank you, Mrs. Whitlock, for all your help."

Scoffing a little and flapping a hand a bit, "nu uh, Child. Mrs. Whitlock is that horrible woman I call my mother in law. You g'on call me Mama, Darlin'. That'll be just fine."

Smiling even wider, even as Peter sighed a little as he dropped his face in his hand, Isabella nodded, "Of course, Mama Whitlock."

Tisking and rolling her eyes a little, "that'll do I suspect. Ya'll two have fun now, and Peter, Sugar, you give her a hard time and I'll hurt ya, ya hear?"

Grinning at her, he nodded, "I hear ya, Mama." Once she was out of hearing distance, he gave his lady a grin, "so, what else you been up to that I should know about?"

Returning that same sly grin, she backed out of his arms and kept backing up, "well, you know how you been busy lately?" Peter cocked a brow and nodded making the grin on Isabella's face grow, "You also remember that boyfriend I..." She never got to finish that sentence before whirling around with a shriek of laughter, darting away when Peter made a lunge for her.


	9. Chapter 9

Isabella was walking down the dirt parking area with Rose, giggling at her when she would crack on the poor bastards that were trying to untrailer different horses. It was just after dawn when the girls got to the the arena in Dallas. This was Peter's first rodeo back and there were already people in the public parking area to get into the rodeo that day. From what she had been able to gather back at the hotel the night before, Peter was something of a legend in Texas and New Mexico. He would draw bulls and broncos and 'get the buzz' where others were lucky to to be able to walk, or run, away.

She would be lying if she didn't have a rock in her stomach that formed after she overheard a couple of other riders that were staying at the same hotel they were talking about some of the past rides Peter had where he was one of those lucky riders. The only thing that had put her a little at ease was over the few days before they left she had watched him actually ride Rocky as he broke in his new saddle, softening the stiff leather so it moved as it should.

She didn't see him before he and Jasper left the hotel that morning to get to the arena in time for check in.

Being pulled back to the present by an elbow to the ribs, she turned to look up at Rose, "Yeah?"

Rose snickered at her, "ya thinkin' too much 'bout it, Dolly. You gonna have a panic attack if ya don't settle down some. Unlike most of the other riders you gonna see today, Peter learns from his mistakes. He ain't gonna showboat to the crowd if the bull still loose."

Sighing a little, she crossed her arms and looked at the ground and shook her head. "That ain't what I'm worried about, Rosie. I can't get some of the stories I heard last night out of my head about him getting thrown off. I don't want to see him get hurt."

Rose snorted hard at that, "then you with the wrong guy, Dolly. Blood, broken bones, injuries of all matter are all part of this kind of life, Sugar Pie. He gonna get hurt, that a fact. Sometimes it gonna be worse than others, but it gonna happen, no two ways 'bout it."

A quiet whimper escaped Isabella's throat at the very blunt statement. That was actually one of the reasons she liked Rosalie so much. She didn't beat around any kind of bush and told her exactly how it was. Didn't mean she liked what was said, though.

Looking up at her, there was a pleading look in her eyes, "but he always bounces back though, right? I mean, Jasper told me about last year when he got really hurt and he came back from that."

Rose sighed a little and bit the corner of her lip as that memory surfaced. That was a nasty chunk and Peter damn near didn't bounce back from it. Making a little noise as she clicked her tongue, Rose shook her head, "I ain't givin' that kind of assurance, Dolly, 'cause I ain't gonna be the one to say he will and somethin' happens and he don't. Peter is a hella good rider but accidents and injuries happen to the best too."

The girls fell into silence after that, Isabella returning to her thoughts and Rose snickering every time there was a scream of pain from some moron that don't know how to get a horse off a trailer.

When they got the very last one, Isabella saw that it was Peter and Jasper. Peter was leaning on the side of the pickup, his foot kicked up on the wheel with his arms pushed back on the side of the bed, hands dangling down the sides with a bottle of water in one hand and a set of papers in the other. He was wearing a pair of Wrangler jeans that looked like they were made for him with the set of black cloth chaps with fringe over top of them that she got him for his birthday, a black t-shirt and had a crimson handkerchief tied loosely around his neck with his black Stetson on his head, his just shy of chin length dirty blonde hair still looking a little damp from his shower.

Isabella was worried about drool on her chin.

Peter had turned to say something to his brother and saw his little darlin' and Rose heading their way. He let his eyes run her form and gulped a bit. She was wearing painted on blue jeans tucked into her black boots and a clinging little white tank that stopped just above her belly button. She had her long hair hanging down her back with his white and black hat on top her head with his color for the competition tied around it with the excess ribbon draping down the back. She looked like she had just taken a step out of the dream he had last night.

Grinning a bit, he nodded to the girls, "Mornin' Ladies. How ya'll feelin'?"

Rose just shrugged and Isabella looked off to the side, tisking. There was no way she wanted him to know that she woke up still drunk this morning.

Rose didn't care.

"Just fine Sug, but this little tart here was still drunker than a skunk when I got her up."

Head whipping back around, Isabella stared at Rose in wide eyed horror for beat before astonishing, "Jesus Rose."

Rose just cocked a brow at her, "what? Ya were. Dolly, there ain't no shame in still being drunk after a night of moonshine. 'Sides, you were drinkin' with a bunch of cowboys, had you been sober when I got to your room, I would be questionin' what exactly you got goin' on between them legs."

Still staring in horror, Isabella shook her head, "I am gonna kick the shit out of you."

Rose chuckled and shrugged, "Oh, lighten up, Dolly. I'm just foolin' so don't be gettin' them feathers ruffled now."

Peter just snorted a little as he took a drink of his water before shaking his head, "Ya'll knock it off." Setting the bottle in his hand on the side of the truck bed, he rolled the rules and regulations paper up and slid it into his back pocket before heading to the truck cab. Reaching in through the window, he grabbed something off the front seat and turned back, "Hey, come 'er, Little Darlin'. I got somethin' for ya."

Blinking a few times, Isabella walked over to him, "what?"

Once she was right in front of him, he took off her hat, setting it on top on the truck so he could slip the lanyard over her head. Once it was on, he ran his fingers through her hair, pulling it out from underneath, before straightening it on her chest then grabbing her hat and turned back to the truck window.

Isabella looked at the card on the end of the lanyard a second while Peter was doing whatever he was doing, "What's this?"

Peter was still reaching the window when he answered, "All access pass. It gets ya in, drinks and food for the day. Plus" He backed out of the window and turned to lean on the door and began to pin something to the ribbon around her hat, "It lets you back in the stable area that's roped off to keep the masses from spookin' the horses."

Looking back at the card, she smiled, "Thanks." She then leaned forward a bit to try and see what he was doing. When she couldn't because his hands were in the way, she asked, "what are you doing to my hat?"

Peter glanced at his Little Darlin' out of the corner of his eye a second before looking back at her hat, "not a problem, Sugar Britches. All riders get one for their trainer and one for their girl."

Smiling at him, "well, that's kinda cool. I figured this was gonna cost an arm and leg."

Smirking wide enough for his teeth to show, Peter turned his upper body a bit and put her hat back on her, "It would have been my arm and leg, Little Darlin'."

Taking her hat back off, she looked to see what he had put on it, smiling a little at the pin. It was a little bigger than a half-dollar and gold with the number 25 in the center and 'Peter Whitlock' going around it in bold, dark black so it stood out. Looking back up at him, "what exactly is it?"

Peter rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms and leaned back against his truck, "my number for the event. The pass I gave ya lets the vendors knows that ya a guest of a rider. The pin tells them which one so they can keep track of what goes to who in case more is gotten than there is credits in the riders account."

Blinking at him as she put her hat on, "should I be careful about how much I drink to then? "Cause, I gotta be honest, I don't know how sober I can stay and make it through this."

Snorting a little as he hooked his fingers through her belt loops and pulled her to him, "ya make it sound like you ain't lookin' forward to this, Little Darlin'. Ya gonna hurt my feelin's." Chuckling a little at the look she gave him, he shook his head, "naw, you ain't gotta worry 'bout it. We get credits and shit like it for our placement in events. Since I haven't been ridin' in a while, my account hasn't been touched. Plus, even if ya do happen to go over what's in there, not like I can't cover the overage. Jazz has one too and he drinks like a fuckin' fish."

Smirking a little, "isn't a little girly looking for a guy to wear?"

Peter snorted and grinned, "only the lady gets a pin. My number is on his pass." Poking the pin with the tip of his finger, "you'll get a new one at every event. They make them different for each venue so little hussy ex-girlfriends can't use an old one for free shit."

Giggling a little, "personal experience, Peter?"

To her surprise he shook his head, "nope. You the first lady I ever gave one of mine to. Jasper on the other hand, he got experience in that."

"The little bitch cost me two hundred bucks feedin' her friends and new boe beer off my number." Both Peter and Isabella turned to look at the glare on Jasper's face, seeing storm clouds pass through his normally bright blue eyes. After he shook his head with a little growl, he held out Rocky's reigns over to Peter, "You got stable registry in ten minutes. Better get ya ass in gear if you wanna actually ride in all your events today."

After giving his girl a kiss, he took Rocky's reigns and climbed up on his back. Clicking his tongue to steady the big baby, he reached out a hand and helped his girl up behind him. Once she was situated behind him, he took the folder that had the documents from Rocky's vet visit from Jasper, tucking it under the front of the saddle and called over his shoulder, "Hang on now, Little Darlin'. We a distance to go an not the time to do it."

Isabella wrapped her arms around Peter's waist and when she nodded to his question about her being ready, Peter kicked Rocky's ribs and snapped the reigns with a 'Yea' prompting Rocky to rear a bit before leaping into a full gallop, a grin coming to Peter's face when he heard a squeak out of his girl as she tightened her grip on him and the call of 'showoff' by Rose as he raced the clock before it even started.

While he was nice enough to avoid anything that Rocky would jump over, he didn't pull the horse to a slower stride until he could see the stables. When he did finally pull him to a stop, Rocky bounced a bit and stomping a few times before standing still so Peter could dismount and turn in the paperwork and get his stall assignment.

The head stable hand turned at the entrance and smiled when he saw who it was. Looking at his watch, he smirked as Peter walked over to him. Holding out his hand, grabbing and shaking Peter's when it touched his palm, "Jesus Boy; you should like to cut thinks close, dontcha, Witty?"

Peter smirked and chuckled a bit, "Give me a break, Hoss. It's my first day back, ya ol' fuck."

Snorting at that, Garrett held out a hand for the paperwork required to stall personal horses. "Just give me the damn docs, Witty. You in stall 8." Glancing over to where Rocky was at, he whistled low, "Damn, Witty, she a pretty one."

After whistling to his girl and waving a hand to her to bring Rocky, Peter grinned at Garrett, "That's my Lady." Once she was next to him, Peter helped her off the horse and did the introductions, "Garrett Martin, Isabella Swan. Little Darlin', this is Garrett, or Hoss as ya gonna hear him called. He runs the stables at nearly every event so ya prolly gonna see him quite a bit."

Isabella smiled at him and held out her hand, "nice to meet you, Mr. Martin."

Taking her hand and pressing a light kiss to the back her knuckles, "The pleasure is all mine, Miss. Isabella. And Mr. Martin is my daddy. You call me Hoss like everyone else."

Grinning a little bigger, "Then you call me Bella like everyone else."

Winking at her, Garrett smiled, "as ya wish, Miss. Bella."

Peter snorted a little, "don't make me hit ya, Hoss."

Garrett laughed out a bark of laughter before looking at Isabella, "he an easy one to get all riled up, ain't he?"

Isabella giggled and nodded, "oh, you have NO idea."

Peter sighed a little and shook his head a bit, "fuck." taking Rocky's reigns from his girl, he took her hand with the other, lacing their fingers together and smiled down at her, "Ya'll two can conspire against me later. We gotta get Rocky put up and go meet Jasper, Emmett and Rosalie for breakfast. We make Em wait too long he lible to eat my brother."

Isabella looked at her watch before looking at him with a cocked brow, "You mean to tell me he up at this hour? It's only ten after 9."

Peter chuckled a little as he pulled her along to the stall he was assigned, "he gets up this early if his daddy needs him or there's food involved."

 ***X***

Isabella had spent the majority of the late morning walking the stalls with Rose while Peter did his normal shit before a rode. What that was, she didn't know and really didn't want to. All she knew was that he hardly left the stables before the events started up and she didn't care to sit there and wait around while he got 'in the game', whatever the fuck that meant.

It was around one when there was an announcement over the loudspeakers that the 'tie-down wrestle' was going to be starting followed by two names, the first rider and the 'on deck' or second rider. Looking up at Rose, "should we head to the corral now?"

Rose glanced at her from the stall she was at before shrugging and turning back to the handmade jewelry, "I ain't really a fan of this event. You g'on if ya what. Chances are you'll find Peter and Jasper long side the fence on the stable side. There gonna be a little show and the Anthem 'fore it starts so ya got time to make it."

Nodding at her back, Isabella made her way through the crowd towards where Rose told her she would find Peter. She got there just as the people in the stands stood. Moving next to Peter, who glanced down at her with a smile as he took off his hat, she followed suit while the National Anthem played.

Once the opening show was over, She looked at Peter as the first rider rode into the corral, "so, what's this event?"

Grinning at his girl, Peter turned back to watch the show, "well, this event is all about speed whereas others give ya a time limit. The goal in the tie-down is to be the fastest at ropin' and hog tyin' the calf they let loose." Pursing his lips a little, Peter grabbed her wrist and pulled her between him and the fence before lifting her by the hips to where there was a break in the wood and brought his leg up behind her and under her ass to help her stay up so she could see over the top of the fence. Laying the forearm that wasn't around his girl across the top of the fence, he pointed to a gate on the other side, "that there is where the calf gonna come from. Rossy, the current rider, is gonna chase it, lasso in hand and try to get it around the calf's neck. Once he does that, he'll dismount his horse and hog tie the thing's feet. Once he wrapped all the rope 'round it, he'll put his hands up and the clock stops.

"Now, Ya wanna be fast at this, but ya wanna be accurate too 'cause ya lose points for every time the lasso leaves your hand and ya miss the steer. Ya also get docked points for how close ya are when you rope the thing. The further you are from the steer, the more points ya get to keep. For all the points you lose, it adds time to your score. When the rider raises his hands and steps away, they look at the time you did it in then calculate the points lost and add time if they need to. The rider at the end with the fastest time wins the overall event."

Running that through her mind a couple of times to make sure she understood the rules to the event, Isabella turned to the corral when she heard a buzzer and saw a calf take off out of the gate where Peter said it was gonna come from and the rider take off after it. She kept looking at Peter when she heard him grunt or make some other noise of disapproval but by the time she was able to ask what it was about, there was another buzzer calling her attention to the rider in the corral with his hands up.

Blinking a little, she looked back at him, "so, was that good or bad?"

Peter glanced at the stop watch in Jasper's hand and, after a second of rolling his shoulders with a thoughtful sigh, "somewhere in between. He was too close to get a good time to beat. Since he was the first rider, he set the bar for the rest of us... and it ain't very high."

Isabella nodded a little to him at that before looking back over the fence, "is this event safe?"

Peter snorted and shook his head a bit, "Little Darlin', you worry too much. No, there is not a single event that is completely safe. Few years back, I got hooved in the nuts..."

"I 'member that. Memory serves, ya carried on like a belle who didn't win the crown."

At hearing the new voice, Peter smirked, a dark gleam in his eyes as he looked over his shoulder at the one that could be considered his 'rival' and cocked a brow, "ya mean like how ya shrieked like a virgin on her weddin' night when I still got the win, Laurent?"

Laurent's face darkened no small degree at that. Eyes narrowed, he sneered, "You mangy mother fu…"

Peter cut him off, "You best be watchin' that mouth 'round the lady, Smithy, 'for I knock your teeth out."

The most incredulous look ever overtook Isabella's face as she looked back at Peter. Who the fuck was he trying to kid? He had a dirtier mouth than that guy from the orbit commercial that pulled that nasty ass old guy's underwear off with his teeth… and he knew it. The worst part, she didn't even understand 90% of what came out of his mouth and SHE knew it was bad.

Before the little scene could play out anymore, Peter was called up on deck. With a glare at Laurent, he grabbed his girl's hips and gently set her on her feet, "I gotta grab Rocky. Wait here a minute."

She nodded and, when Jasper grabbed her wrist, she put up no fight when he pulled her in front of him. She did however let out a little squeal when he gripped her by the hips and lifted her up to sit on his shoulders. Wobbling a little, she grabbed his hands tightly when he offered them to her to steady herself so she didn't fall off.

Once she was situated, she looked into the corral and waited for the current rider to finish his run.

Once the little lady on his shoulders quit moving, Jasper let her hands go, draping his arms over her thighs just in case. Turning to look up at her, he saw the worry lines on her face and snorted a little, shaking his head. "Ya really do worry to much, Sug. Pete's the national champion in this, has been for the last three years. He gonna be fine." Before she was able to say anything back to him, the second buzzer went off calling an end to the current ride. Taking a peek at the stop watch, he rolled his eyes.

Peter was gonna be pissed if no one actually gives him a challenge on his first day back.

Once the rider left the corral, Peter was announced, and the stands erupted into a roar of applause. Jasper brought his thumb and pinkie to his lips and curled his tongue behind his lips and blew a whistle to his little brother. To anyone else, it would just look like he was just cheering for him, but they had a little system worked out and perfected over the years. Jasper was actually telling him what the previous rider's time was by how many influxes there was.

Peter turned to look at his brother and nodded, telling him he understood while he did a lap around the arena. As he was passing his girl, he gave her a wink before spurring Rocky into a faster run. As he reached the start point, he gave the signal to the gate keeper that he was ready for his turn. He wouldn't ever admit to anyone just how much he missed the butterflies in his gut right before the sound of the buzzer sounded.

Changing his grip on his lasso, he swirled it over his head as he and Rocky chased the calf. Once he was sure of the calf's course, he let the rope fly, hitting his mark and tugging the rope back, tightening the slip knot, pulling the calf off its feet with dismounting Rocky in the same moment. Flipping the calf to its back, he wrapped the rope around the calf's ankles, tossing his hands up and jumping back from the prone animal, a grin coming to his face as the buzzer sounded.

Jasper glanced at the stop watch in his hands and smirked before blowing that same whistle, only this time without as many influxes as the last time.


	10. Chapter 10

Peter had dropped Rocky off at a border's ranch in northern California and was now reaching the end of the three hour drive to the little town that his girl grew up in. For the last half hour, she had been all but bouncing in her seat, gushing over this, that and the other; her voice getting more and more animated with every mile put under the tires. For the rock in his gut over this, he couldn't stop the grin that came to his lips as she talked about her dad. It had been a long time since he actually met a girl's daddy that he didn't know growing up, and NEVER after they actually had sex...

And they had a VERY active sex life.

Normally, there was no 'daddy meeting' with the girls he rolled in the hay with, they were one night, or possibly over the weekend, but not anywhere close to take home and meet the folks kind of girls.

Matter of fact, there was probably a pretty long list of daddies ready to shoot him on sight.

Grunting a little and shaking his head to rid himself of the thought, Peter returned his attention to his girl when she squealed to put a stuck pig to shame, turning in her seat when they passed the 'Welcome to Forks' sign. Following the turn by turn directions, he soon pulled up in front of a two story, yellow house with a wrap around porch and, you guessed it, a cop car in the driveway.

Leaning over him, Isabella laid on the horn a few times before throwing her door open, not closing the door behind her, before running around the truck. Peter blinked a few times at the action before looking out his window and saw her leap into the arms of an older gentleman with salt and pepper hair, her cry of "Daddy" echoing off the porch and back to him.

Getting out of his truck as well, Peter held back as his girl and her daddy got reacquainted. When she turned bright eyes on him and waved him over, he pushed off the front of his truck and walked across the yard, bending his elbow when his girl wrapped her arms around it.

"Dad, this is Peter Whitlock. Peter, this is my dad, Charlie Swan."

Looking her daddy in the eye, Peter held out a hand, "Pleasure to meet ya, Chief Swan."

Gripping the boy's hand and giving it a shake, Charlie tightened his grip as much as he could and cocked a brow, "You ever so much as raised your voice to a girl, Boy?"

"No, Sir. My mama have my hide 'fore I could blink iffen I ever did."

Charlie looked at the guy he had only ever heard very good things about another moment before he smirked a bit, "Keep in mind, I have a gun, I know how to use it, and I am the chief of police. If I say I didn't shoot you, no one will ask me again. You get what I'm saying, Boy?"

Peter nodded at him, "yes, Sir."

"Good. Call me Charlie." Then he turned away from the kids and back to the house, "Get your bags and come on in, the game is getting ready to start and pizza should be here soon."

As they were following the order, Isabella giggled a little, looking at Peter over the truck bed as she grabbed her backpack and Peter got the duffles, she smiled at him, "I think that went well."

Peter snorted as he pulled her backpack off her shoulder and put it over his, once again bending his elbow when she took his arm, "yeah, he didn't g'on and shoot me. I consider that a win."

"He told you to call him Charlie. There are kids I grew up with that aren't even allowed to call him that. I think he really wants to like you."

Smiling down at her, he cocked a brow as he handed her through the door, "Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?"

Isabella smirked, "He didn't come outside with his gun on his hip and you got in the front door. If he wasn't willing to at least try, he would have just gone ahead and shot you."

Peter gave her a flat look as he closed the door behind him and set their bags down, "very comfortin', Little Darlin'."

She just giggled as she grabbed his wrist and pulled him the rest of the way into the house.

 ***X***

"Go baby, go, go, go, GO... FUCK!"

Charlie dropped back into his chair as Peter leapt from his, double fist pumping with a "YES!" as his Cowboys tackled the fuck out of the Seahawk's wide receiver and recovered the fumble. He might be trying to win over his girl's daddy, but where he was from, football was a religion and the Cowboys were their gods.

Sitting back down next to his girl and setting a hand on her thigh, Peter reached for his beer. After taking a drink, he turned to Charlie, "I got fifty bucks that say my boys kick the shit out of yours."

After swallowing his own mouthful of beer, he pointed the bottleneck at him, "You're on, Son. My team hasn't ever let me down."

Peter smirked, "neither has mine."

He tried not to be too smug as he took his girl's daddy's money later that night. It was kinda iffy there around the middle of the fourth quarter, but, as always, his boys came through and won by 9.

Isabella just shook her head a little, a smile on her face as she watched them interact. She had been a little worried at first over this visit, but she knew that if anything would bring them together, beside the fact they both wanted to to kill the same person, it would be football.

"Well, as sweet as the male bondin' is, I'm tired. Ya'll have a good night, now."

As Isabella was turning to head upstairs to her room, her dad snorted, "Ya'll? What the hell is that shit, Bells?"

Glancing over her shoulder with a grin, "Blame ya new Pal, Daddy. I promise ya be sayin' it too by the time we leave."

Charlie shook his head a little, "fucking southerners."

Without missing a beat, Peter retorted, "fuckin' Yankees."

Charlie looked at him with a cocked brow but said nothing as he hugged his daughter, wishing her a good night and sweet dreams.

 ***X***

The next morning Peter woke up to the most mouth watering scent there was. Taking a deep breath, he hummed in his throat, Is that bacon? Stretching out his back, popping his spine back into alignment, he reached down and adjusted his extremely painful junk and sighed before rolling out of his girl's bed and grabbing his jeans off the floor. He knew this was his fault. His girl wasn't nearly as vocal about not doing anything in her dad's house, those protests were all him, but he was definitely regretting the choice right about now. He knew one thing for fucking sure, if she was still up for it that night, there would be NO denying it.

After a quick stop at the bathroom, he followed his nose and the smell of pig to the kitchen where his girl and her daddy were bullshitting about nothing as she bustled around the room. After a 'mornin'' to Charlie, he kissed his girl before he was pointed to the table where there was enough food to feed a small army.

"Help yourself, Peter. I got some guys coming over this morning to help me with thinning out the tree line. If you want to eat, you better do it before they get here."

Isabella snorted at the stove, turning around and twirling the spatula in her hand in a circle with a chuckle. "Daddy, I have seen breakfast time in the Whitlock house. Peter here is not above stabbing hands with forks."

Peter took a drink of his juice to wash down the bacon and looked over at his girl, "ya make it sound like I do that shit all the time. It was once, it was Emmett, and he went after the bacon on MY plate. Ya damn skippy I stabbed that fucker's hand. Ya don't mess with a man's bacon, Little Darlin'. That'll land ya knee deep in shit faster than ya can blink on the Whitlock ranch."

Isabella cocked a brow as she jetted out a hip, "it was three times, it was Emmett, Jasper, and Rocky's vet and you drew blood."

He was completely unrepentant about it too. "Previous statement stands, Sugar Britches. You don't fuck with a man's bacon and e'spect to keep all ya fingers. They knew better." To prove his point, he shoved another piece of bacon in his mouth and winked at his now laughing lady.

Charlie watched the banter going on between his daughter and her new boyfriend, a small smile on his face hidden by the newspaper in his hands. He couldn't remember a single time he saw her while she was with that thing she calls an ex that she looked that happy; not even before all that bullshit happened. She also never talked about him but hasn't shut up about Peter since he got up this morning. He had to admit, he was curious about the man and she had no problems telling him anything he wanted to know. When she told him that he was a professional rider, with multiple national championship titles in different events under his belt, he would be a liar if he said he didn't make a few phone calls while she was in the shower and have him looked up.

He would also be a liar if he said he wasn't impressed.

He knew he hadn't misunderstood what she said. He knew she said he had them, but he didn't think that she meant the he was the CURRENT national champion in those events, just that he had had them at one point, but no. He was the current 'gold buckle' holder in the the tie-down wrestle, barrel race and the steer wrestle. He had the silver one in the saddle bronc and bareback bronc and the bronze one in the bull ride. He held a title in every event there is and the guy he got the information from was jealous and fuck that 'Witty' was staying in his house.

He wondered if she knew he was the current title holder in anything but the one she actually said he had at the moment. After making a mental note to ask him if she knew just how big of a name he had, Charlie set the paper down and leaned back in his seat, "So, what do you kids have planned for today?"

Isabella was pulling a pan of biscuits out of the oven when she answered, "nothing until tonight. I want to take Peter to Port Angeles tonight to go to that club I went to for my 21st." Setting the hot pan on the stove top, she turned and leaned against it, "I figured we would just laze around the house for the day so I can see Jake when he and the guys get here."

Charlie nodded at that. "I know he can't wait to see you, Bells. The damn kid started calling the house everyday for the last three to find out exactly when you were going to get here."

Isabella snorted a little before rolling her eyes and turning to take the biscuits out of the pan and moved them to the basket on the counter.

Peter looked at her with a cocked brow as he leaned back in his seat, "that the boyfriend you been talkin' 'bout, Little Darlin'?"

With a bark of laughter, she looked over her shoulder and winked at him, "we were married when we were kids. Poor bastard didn't take the divorce well."

"I was 6."

Isabella whirled around with a squeal, dropping the biscuit in her hand and darting across the room before leaping into Jake's arms, laughing as he spun her around. Once she was on her feet again, she beamed up at him, "holy fuck, what the hell have you been eatin'? You weren't this tall two months ago."

Jake smiled at her and ruffled her hair a bit, "you didn't sound like a hick then either, Bells."

With a swat to the chest and a huffed 'asshole', she turned to Peter who was looking at her with a smile, "Jake, This is..."

He cut her off and held out a hand to Peter, "Oh, I know who this is. Jacob Black, Mr. Whitlock. It's an honor to meet you."

Peter smirked at him as he took and shook Jake's hand, "Mr. Whitlock my Daddy. Call me Peter."

There was a definite swoon in Jake's eyes as he nodded making Isabella cock a brow a little. "Looks like someone got a little crush on ya, Petey."

Peter snorted as Jake looked at her like she was making fun of Jesus in bible country, "I do not. But, come on, Bells, it's not everyday you meet a fucking legend."

Peter grunted a little and shook his head a bit, "I ain't no legend, kid. I just ride."

The spark of swoon was back as Jake shook his in disbelief. "You're a national champion, three years in a row in more than one event. You are the highest rated rider in the circuit. You have won more events in the last year alone than most riders do in their whole career. They say that if you keep going like you are, you could even beat Frost."

Peter sighed and looked at the ceiling, "Well, I don't know who _they_ are," looking back at Jake, "But ain't no fella gonna ever beat him. Frost a legend, I just ride."

Seeing the annoyance creeping into Peter's eyes, Charlie intervened on his behalf, "Jake, shut up and leave the man alone. He isn't here for you, now sit down, shut up and eat."

Jake looked like he was about to protest, so Isabella smacked him on the back of the head and pointed to the table, "sit."

Shoulders slumping a bit, Jake did as he was told and took a seat and getting a plate of food. Once a few minutes passed, he looked across from him at Peter and swallowed him mouthful, "so, where's Rocky?"

Peter looked up at him, "border in California got 'im for the week we gonna be here. Why?"

Jake shrugged a little, "no reason. I just know that you don't go anywhere without him."

Peter cocked a brow at him, "you a stalker?"

Charlie choked on his coffee at the same time Isabella spit hers out so she didn't while Jake turned beet red at the question and Peter sat there waiting for an answer.

Isabella wiped her chin off with the back of her hand, blinking a few times before slowly turning to look at Peter, "feel free to use the fork."

 ***X***

Around noon, Isabella was in the kitchen with a couple of the girls from the rez making a mountain of sandwiches and pitchers of sweet tea and lemonade and putting bags of chips into bowls. Once that was done, the girls took lunch outside to the picnic table because there was no way, in any life, that she was going to allow 8 men that spent the day out in the woods cutting back trees and branches in the house without turning the hose on them first.

Once everything was outside, Isabella blew a high pitched whistle then cupped her hands around her mouth, "All hogs to the troff! Ya'll boys come on and eat now." As she turned back to go grab the paper plates, there was a pained yell from the woods causing her to turn back to see what was going on.

It didn't take long.

Out of the woods came Jake, Paul hot on his heel, before Paul speared tackled in him the back, taking him to the ground face first. The girls crossed their arms, head cocked to the side as they tried to figure out what the hell Jake did to piss him off this time when Peter walked calmly out of woods, his own arms crossed.

Peter smirked as he saw Paul take the stalker to the ground. When he was close enough, Peter pointed to his girl, making her start a bit, "ya best apologize to the Lady, Kid."

Jake fought against the hold Paul had on him as he turned to look at Peter, "she didn't hear me." then he cried out a little when Paul twisted his arm a bit.

Peter cocked a brow at him, "don't matter. Paul 'bout to rip ya arm off. I reckon I'd apologize iffen I was you, Kid."

Jake cried out again as Paul pushed up on his arm again, yelling, "Sorry, Bells."

Isabella looked at the sight, then at the other girls, who shook their heads, before looking back again, "for what?"

Paul answered that, "he was picking on your accent again."

Isabella groaned a bit and huffed, "dick." Shaking her head, "just eat, ya bastards." After she came out with the plates, she took a seat next to Peter, who put his arm over her shoulders, and jumped into the conversation like she was there the whole time.


	11. Chapter 11

Isabella and Peter had been staying with Charlie now for four days and Isabella was just this side of the line in castrating Jacob and raping Peter. The rape would be easy to see coming by anyone with a brain since they have boned ever day for the last two months and NOTHING for the entire time they were in Washington and she was about to explode. The castration however, everyone but Jake saw that in his future. Jake's little man crush was beginning to reach creepy levels and Peter was just about to knock the kid into next week. Isabella felt that castration was a far better punishment.

Currently, Isabella was at the stove making stew for dinner while Peter gave her a hand peeling those devil spawn potatoes and Jake sitting across from Peter yapping on and on about this that and the other, asking all matter of personal shit about Peter that were really none of his fucking business.

Seconds before Peter made the fantasy about stabbing the kid in the eye with the peeler in his hand a reality, Isabella snapped. Slamming the spoon on the counter with a crack, she whirled around and shouted, "for the love of fuck Jake, That's enough. I get you have a crush on the guy, but you have been up his ass since we got here. Do you really got nothin' better to do than to sit there and ask all matter of fucked up questions that are none of your fuckin' business? He might be above shutting you up, but I ain't. Either shut up or I shove my fist down your throat and rip out your voice box, ya get me?"

Jake stared at her while Peter looked at her like she hung the moon. It was completely silent in the house for a minute before there was a slow clapping that lightly sped up into a full applauds coming from the living room where Charlie and some of the other rez boys were watching a repeat game from the night before.

Jake was beet red and she swallowed hard before looking at Isabella again, "sorry Bells."

She just glared at him, "oh, don't be apologizin' to me. I ain't the one ya been making all kinds of uncomfortable. You just pissed me off." She pointed to Peter, "apologize to him."

Jake sighed a little before turning to Peter, "sorry man."

Peter shrugged, "don't worry 'bout it, just knock it off. I ain't got a problem witcha Kid, but I don't even get hounded on like that by rodeo whores. Keep the questions away from shit that ain'tcha business and it'll be fine."

Jake nodded and Isabella pointed to the living room, "get out, Jake." He got up and left the room without a word and Isabella growled a little and crossed her arms, leaning against the stove, "Jesus."

Peter chuckled as he stood up and took the veggies over to his girl and set them on the counter before setting a hand on either side of her and bending down to look her in the eyes, "Ya know, ya'll kinds of sexy when you get all pissy."

Isabella smirked at him and cocked brow, "that wasn't pissy, that was irritated. Ask Jake what the difference between the two is."

Peter hummed in his throat, "Let me guess, you get violent?"

Isabella giggled, "I only reached that point once and it was years ago. Jake cut my hair off so I think he deserved the kick to shin."

Peter grinned and nodded as he leaned in, "I bet he did" and pressed his lips to hers. Nipping at her lip lightly, he made a noise in his throat when she parted them for him.

They only kissed for a minute or so before there was a catcall from behind Peter. He groaned louder this time while his Little Darlin' out right growled. When he pulled back, she looked him dead in the eyes, "we're going to a hotel."

He was fine with that.

After dinner that night, Peter and Isabella packed their bags and straightened up her room before Peter carried them down the stairs and set them by the front door while Isabella went to let her father know they were heading out. He walked into the living room at the WRONG part of the conversation.

"No, we'll be here for a little longer, but Jesus dad, we can barely kiss and I kinda want to fuck my boyfriend."

Peter froze and his jaw went lax before he slowly backed out of the room before anyone saw him and, as quietly as he could, opened the front door and pretended he didn't walk in on that. He was just closing the storage case in the bed when his girl came sprinting out of the house, leaping off the front porch and darting to the passenger side of his truck, her face as bright as the sun when she yell, 'we gotta go'.

Peter looked towards the house and his eyes went wide at the sight of the shotgun in Charlie's hands. 'Oh, god damn it'.

Wasting no time, Peter jumped into the driver's seat and turned the key, throwing the truck in reverse and peeling out of the driveway. The sound of a gunshot and squealing tires could barely be heard over the sound of his psychotic girlfriend's laughter. He looked over at her and just stared at her as she played with his iPod for a minute before Dierks Bentley 'what was I thinkin'' came on.

"You are out of your fuckin' mind, Little Darlin'."

It was this point in time that Peter realized that he was following orders from a fucking country song. He glanced at his girl and saw that she was actually wearing a white tank top. Shaking his head a little, he cut the wheel a sharp left and laid back on the gas.

Getting back on the main highway, Peter let up on the gas and looked over at Isabella, who was still laughing as she clung to the 'oh shit handle' "Your Daddy is gonna kill me."

She shook her head and smiled wide, "he won't do nothin'. He shot at you so this is kinda understandable, Petey. I'll call him later once he calms down a little."

Peter shook his head and glanced in the rearview mirror for a second, letting out a breath when there were no red and blue lights to be seen anymore.

 ***X***

A half hour later Peter had checked them into a hotel room and his girl was on the phone with her daddy, trying to defuse the situation, and not doing a very good job in his opinion. He was leaning on the dresser with his arms and ankles crossed listening to her side of the conversation.

"You SHOT at him, Dad; did you expect him to just stand there and take it?... So fucking what... In case it escaped your notice while you were being an asshole, I was also in the truck you shot at... You're being completely unreasonable, Charlie... No, you were the one that did that shit, not him. Peter ain't ever done nothin' to put me in danger. YOU were the one shooting a fucking shotgun at his truck. I think you owe him a fuckin' apology for that shit, by the way... If that's the case, then you need to get over what Edward did and see that Peter is NOTHIN' like him, I did. If I can get past that shit, you certainly can... Oh, fuck you. You're tryin' to compare consensual sex between two adults and abuse at the hands of a stupid little prick that has a death wish. News flash, OFFICER, NOT the same thing... No, it was mine... yeah, mine, not his... I figured as much, ya dumbass... well, ya wanna treat me like a rebellious teenager, I'll act like one... Save a horse... I highly fuckin' doubt it... Yeah..."

With that, Isabella hung up the phone and tossed it on the bed before she fell back and scrubbed her face with her hands, a hard growl rumbling her throat.

Peter cocked his head to the side a little, "that didn't sound like it went real well, Sugar Britches."

Isabella dropped her arms to her sides and glared at the ceiling, "he said sorry about your truck, he was aiming for your head."

Peter puckered his lips and nodded slowly once, "I figured as much, but, Little Darlin', you gotta try and see this from his perspective. You his baby girl and you comin' off a nasty situation. I would be more concerned if he wasn't out to kill me than the fact he is."

She was quick to turn that glare on him, "don't defend him."

Peter held up a hand, "I ain't, I'm only tryin' to get you to see that he has your best interests at heart. Let me tell ya somethin', if my little angel ever got mixed up in somethin' like that, I gotta say it would snow in hell before I ever gave a fella the benefit of the doubt again. I ain't defendin' 'im, I'm just sayin' I get it and I'm pretty sure once you calm down, you'll get it too."

Isabella sat up, leaned back on her hands and cocked a brow, "he liked you until he found out we were havin' sex. THAT'S what I'm pissed off about. Then there is the little matter that he SHOT at us."

Peter scratched his temple and gave that a once tumble through his head, she had a point but he wasn't gonna tell her that. Instead, he pushed off the dresser and went over to the bed his girl was lounging on and crawled up her body, forcing her to fall back as he got nose to nose with her, "Let's just let it go for now, Alright? You're pissed off, he pissed off, nothing gonna come from talking right now." Once he saw her consent in her eyes, he smirked at her, "I got a question for ya, Little Darlin'."

When she cocked a brow at him in question, "What were you respondin' to when you said 'save a horse'?"

At that, Isabella smirked and twisted over, knocked Peter on his back as she straddled his hips. She gave him a vixen grin, "he asked what I was gonna do. I said I was gonna save a horse." She pulled her shirt off and grabbed her stolen hat off the bed and put it on before looking at him from under the brim as she began to unbuckle his belt, "saddle up, Cowboy, you in for a ride tonight."

'Holy shit...' Peter swallowed hard and it took every last ounce of self control he had to grab her wrists and stop her from continuing. There was a clear whine in his voice as he, and he would NOT admit this to ANY one later, whimpered, "can't Sugar Britches." She cocked her head to the side in question making him whimper again, "we out of condoms, Doll."

Isabella snorted a bit as she pulled her hands out of his and ripped his belt from the loops with a 'crack', "I've been on the pill since I was fifteen." There was a little spark of something in her eyes as she leaned up and butted her nose on his chin before sliding it along his jaw and nuzzling just below his ear, her voice low, "I'm gonna take your bareback title tonight, Witty."

Peter's eyes rolled up into the back of his head at the seduction in her voice and there was no stopping the groan when she ground herself hard against him. He still had his fucking jeans on and was about to bust a nut with just the promise in the air.

Isabella popped the button on Peter's jeans and waited only a second to see if he was gonna stop her again before sliding the zipper down and lifted her body up and began to back up, taking his pants with her. Once his boots and jeans were gone, Isabella unzipped her skirt and slipped it and her panties over her hips and let them slide down her legs to the floor.

Not taking off her boots, Isabella lightly kicked her clothes away before crawling back up Peter's body and once again straddling his hips, right behind his very engorged piece of perfection.

Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, she looked up at him from under the brim of the hat on her head as she lightly ran her fingers from tip to base, a slight smirk coming to her lips when she felt him twitch from her touch. That little action never failed to give her a little ego boost while at the same time, kinda freaking her out.

Tapping her fingers against his member, she wrapped her hand around it as much as she could before rising up on her knees and positioning herself over the head. Locking her eyes on his, Isabella let her own weight pull her down, every little bit lifting herself up to make the descent easier as she coated him with her juices.

Once they were hip to hip, she paused for a moment to get used to the intrusion again after the couple of days break before giving herself a little test roll. Still dealing with a little tightness, she lifted herself back up again before dropping back down with a twist on her hips, erasing the last of the slight discomfort.

Once she was sufficiently stretched out, she leaned back, set one hand on Peter's thigh while the other was set on the top of the hat on her head before she began to bounce, twist and roll her hips.

Peter was just about to lose his fucking mind. This was heart stopping, throat closing, toe curling bliss. For as long as he had been having sex, this was the first time he ever did it without protection and dear GOD... His mind went blank of thought, only able to focus on the pure pleasurable ecstasy that was the feel of his girl's walls squeezing the fuck out of his cock.

His body took over for his mind, and his hands grabbed her waist and began to thrust up against her, pulling her roughly down and grounding hard. Opening his eyes and sitting up, Peter wrapped one arm around her waist and cupped the back of her head with the other before crashing his lips to hers.

Moaning in his throat, he bit her bottom lip to get her to open up. His eyes slid closed again when her tongue came out to play with his and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Moving the hand on the back of her head, he grabbed the brim of his hat and, after taking it off her, tossed to across the room, not giving the slightly bit of a fuck where it landed, and rolled them over and taking over the dominant position without missing a beat.

Wrapping her leg around Peter's hips, Isabella broke the kiss, throwing her head back as a very unladylike moan fell from her lips. Her breath got caught in her throat and she was almost certain she was choking on the head of Peter's dick he was so deep inside her.

Not one to waste and opportunity, Peter latched on to her neck, scraping his teeth across her flesh before sealing his lips and giving it a hard suck. His hips began to speed up as he felt that knot in his stomach begin to tighten. Arching his back a little more, he slid a hand between them his thumb finding what he was after with absolutely no difficulty.

Between the speed and force of Peter's hips and the attention to her clit, Isabella didn't stand a chance. There was four thrusts and she was thrown over the edge of euphoria and into orgasmic retardation. She wrapped her body tightly around his, squeezing with everything she had... the walls of her passage included. She was so far gone in pleasure that she couldn't even scream, her throat tight and constricted.

It was only a few pumps of his hips after that that Peter followed her over the cliff, his seed shooting in powerful spurts deep into her body. The aftermath of his own orgasm left him twitching and breathless.

Forehead to forehead, they panted hard and deep as they stared into each other's eyes.


	12. Chapter 12

"So, where that girl of yours, Witty?"

Peter turned to glance over her shoulder when he heard Garrett's voice behind him. Unhooking Rocky's bridal from the trailer hooks, Peter finished getting his horse un-trailered. Once Rocky was out and over to the water troff, Peter hopped into the bed of his truck to begin unloading his riding gear when he answered, "She wasn't feelin' well so she decided to stay at the hotel and get some sleep." Pulling his keys out of his pocket and unlocking the steel storage box, he opened the lid and crouched, draping his arms over his thighs, "she been runnin' a fever for a few days; high one too. She keep insistin' that it just a bug, but fuck, she should've been showin' signs of it passin' by now."

Garrett leaned on the truck bed and nodded, "whatcha gonna do?"

Peter sighed and scratched his eyebrow with his thumbnail, "well Hoss, iffen that fever of hers still there by the time I get back to the hotel, I'ma take her little ass to the hospital, kickin' and screamin' if necessary. It been damn near a week since she first said she was feelin' bad and it only been gettin' worse from what I can tell. I honestly been thinkin' she thinks I'm an idiot or somethin' and that I can't hear her gettin' sick. Been two days since that shit started up."

"Maybe she just don't want ya to worry 'bout her."

Peter gave him a flat look at that, "like that shit gonna happen. That girl means the world to me and she knows it."

A slow smirk pulled at Garrett's lips as he watched Peter got back to unloading his gear. Chuckling, "well, I'll be God damned."

Peter glanced up at him, "what?"

Garrett cocked a brow at him, "Don't what me, Boy; you know what. I just never thought I'd live to see it."

Peter blinked at him, "see what?"

Garrett rolled his eyes, "ain't no way you that thick headed, Witty. You in love with that little Betty."

Peter snorted, "no shit, Hoss." Pulling his saddle out of the box, Peter hoisted it up on his shoulder and grabbed the leather reigns and, with his foot, closed the lid and hopped out of the bed.

Garrett walked with him to the stable Rocky was assigned to, "tell her yet?"

Dropping the leather straps on the ground and tossing his saddle on the wooden horse, Peter turned and leaned against it and crossed his arms and shook his head, "nope. She knows I'm sure, but she ain't ready to hear it yet. We only been together a few months, Hoss."

Garrett nodded slowly at that. Sometimes he forgot that having seen the way they were together for the last four months; you would think they have been an item for that many years instead. Cocking his head to the side, "You got a break comin' up right?"

Peter nodded, "yes, Sir. My little Darlin's birthday comin' in two weeks and I promised that we could spend it outside the arena. Next weekend is my last competition till the last one of September." With that, Peter pushed off and went to get Rocky, Garrett following after him agian.

"Ain't your birthday comin' up?"

Peter nodded as he grabbed Rocky's harness and gave it a light tug to get the big baby moving again. "It's today."

Garrett blinked a few times before smirking at him, "Well, happy birthday, Peter. How old are ya now, 24?"

Peter gave him a light glare, "26 asshole. Just because you an ol' fuck don't mean the rest of us is a bunch of babes."

Garrett chuckled, "'course it don't, Youngin."

Peter's glare darkened a bit, "I will hit you."

Garrett snorted a little before he sobered, "well, I am awful sorry your lady ain't up to bein' here, Whit."

Peter just shrugged, "shit happens. She sick and this ain't really the place for her to be not feelin' well. We'll see how she is tonight and go from there. Tell ya this much, if she real bad, I ain't gonna be here tomorrow."

 ***X***

It was after dark by the time Peter got Rocky to the borders and returned to the hotel that night. He did well for the circumstances but he had been so completely preoccupied with how his girl was that he was noticeably off his game today.

As quietly as he could, he slipped through the door and gave the room a sweep. Closing the door behind him, his face drew a bit and he sighed a little before heading straight to the bathroom door, tapping on it lightly before opening it.

Leaning on the door jam, he shook his head a bit, "Oh, Sugar." Moving into the room, he knelt down and picked up his sleeping girlfriend from the bathroom floor and carried her back into the main room, laying her on the bed before going back into the bathroom and grabbing the thermometer.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he moved her hair out of the way and put the bud in her ear, waited for it to beep and checked to see if she was at least not worse than she was when he left.

She was.

Tossing the device onto the bed and went to Isabella's bag and grabbed her some clothes. She woke up a bit as he was dressing her, asking in slurred words what was going on, going right back to sleep when he told her he was taking her to the hospital.

He took that as consent.

Once she was dressed, he picked her up again, grabbed her purse off the dresser and took her to his truck. After getting her in and buckled up, Peter kissed her temple and shut the door before getting in the driver's seat. As he was starting the truck up, he looked over to Isabella as she moaned lightly and pulled her feet onto the seat, curling into the smallest ball she could before setting her head on her knees.

The drive wasn't all that long, but the noises coming from beside him made it an eternity to Peter. Pulling into the emergency room parking lot and coming to a stop, Peter dug around in Isabella's purse for her wallet, got out of the truck and slipped it into his back pocket, left his door open and engine running, pausing only to grab the valet slip, before going to the other side and opening Isabella's door.

Reaching over her to unbuckle her belt, Peter slid an arm under her knees and behind her back. When she wouldn't uncurl from the ball she was in, Peter whispered in her ear, "hold on, Little Darlin'."

Isabella opened blurry eyes and looked at him, not wanting to even move much less anything else but after a moment, wrapped one arm around his neck and the other around her stomach. All she could think about right at that moment, when she could think though the pain, was this was a lot like the day they met, her concerned about throwing up on the hot ass cowboy. She was pretty sure he wouldn't mind, but she also really didn't want to test that since he was still wearing his riding gear.

After his girl was lifted into his arms, Peter carried her inside, setting his chin on the top of her head when she laid it against his chest. He took her to the waiting area and sat her down before going to sign her in. Since this was the closest hospital to the arena, they were a little busy with injuries and such that the riders got from hitting the ground. He knew the answers to the most important questions and what he didn't he left blank. The way he saw it, as long as they knew her name and what she couldn't have medication wise, they didn't really need the rest anyhow.

Going back to the waiting room, he sat down next to Isabella, who wasted no time turning and cuddling into his side. Peter wrapped his arm around her, took his hat off and set it on his bent knee and laid his head on top of hers. When she whimpered a little, he tightened his hold on her for only a moment before she ripped herself out of his arms and ran as fast as she could the closest trash can.

Dropping to her knees, Isabella gagged and choked but couldn't dislodge whatever was in her throat.

She felt someone crouch behind her and pull her hair out of her face, but before she could turn to make sure it was Peter, the dam broke and her stomach rolled.

Peter just stayed crouched behind her, holding her hair and rubbing her back, trying to let her know he was there. He heard Isabella's name called and turned to see the nurse standing at the doorway, looking around. He lifted a hand and called out, "over here." Looking back at his girl as she got sick again, his bit his lip a little, "she might be a minute." Seeing the nurse nod to him, he turned his attention back to his girl.

Isabella tried to get her stomach to settle down but every time she thought it would listen, it just seemed to get worse. It took her over five minutes before she felt confident enough to try and get up again.

Noticing her trying to get up, Peter wrapped an arm under her chest and gently lifted her up to a standing position and slowly move her to the wheelchair that the nurse went to get.

Once Isabella was seated, the nurse looked at Peter, "why don't you have a seat, Sir. Once she's situated, I'll come back and get you."

Peter glanced up at her and nodded before turning to his girl and kissing her temple, "see ya in a bit, Baby Doll." He stood there watching as she was rolled away and prayed that it wasn't that serious.

It was about a half hour later that the nurse came back, apologizing for how long it took, and took him back to the room his girl was in. She didn't tell him much, just that they were running different tests and were waiting on the results but chances were the doctor was going to want to keep her at least overnight.

Nodding to her, Peter went into the room she pointed out, pausing just inside the door to take in the sight of his girl. It might have just been the circumstances, but she looked really small at the moment. She was hooked up to different shit and curled around a pink plastic bucket.

Moving into the room, he grabbed a chair and moved it next to the bed, sat down, stretched his legs out and crossed his arms. He was exhausted but tried forced himself to stay awake at least long enough to find out what was wrong with his Little Darlin'.

He didn't make it.

An hour and a half later, the doctor finally got the results and all they said was that further testing was needed. With all the negative and sketchy results, he had a pretty good idea what was going on, but the test for it made most females very uncomfortable. When the dr. walked in, he saw Peter with his feet kicked up on the edge of the bed, his ankles and arms crossed and his head down, the brim of his hat covering his face.

The doctor wasn't sure which rider he was, only knew he was one because of the outfit he was wearing. After treating so many different riders that night, it was kinda nice to see one NOT in a bed. He cleared his throat roughly, not to be rude, but to try and wake up one of the two inhabitants.

Peter started a little at the noise, jumping slightly in his seat. Rubbing his eyes a little with a thumb and middle finger, he lifted his head a bit and looked around for what woke him. When he saw the doctor standing there, he took his feet off the bed and stood up, shaking the hand that was presented to him. After introductions, Peter crossed his arms again, "how is she?"

The doctor folded his hands together in front of him, "well, for starters, she's dehydrated and her blood work showed a very low iron content, even for someone as anemic as she is. I am going to admit her for at least 24 hours to get that count back up. As for anything else, the results from the tests we ran so far haven't given me a good enough picture as to actual cause for her sickness."

Peter took a deep breath and let out slowly through his nose and nodded, "do you have any idea what might be the cause?"

The doctor nodded, "I have an idea, yes. Let me ask you this, when she eats red meat, how does she usually have it?"

Peter hummed a little, "depends. Hamburgers are usually about a northern medium and stake is about as raw a bite right out of the cow ass. Anything more cooked than that and she has a real nasty stomach ache."

"How long before she started getting sick was her last red meat intake?"

Peter ran a hand down his fast as he thought about that. After a minute or so, "I wanna say she started feeling like shit two or three days after her last hamburger." Then he pursed his lips, "real skeezy lookin' place off the highway little over a week ago. So, what do you think it is?"

"I think she either has e-coli or salmonella poisoning. That would also explain why her iron count is so low. Anemics are far more susceptible to food borne bacteria because they lack the iron needed to break things that get in the body down and keep the blood clean. If she isn't taking one already, she will want to start taking an iron supplement or a multivitamin with extra iron in it.

"Now, the good thing is, testing and treatment is the same for both conditions, but I want to make sure which one it is because salmonella poisoning can be quite dangerous. The nurse will be here in a few minutes and I am going to get her admitted so we can re-hydrate her and get some iron and other proteins she's lacking back up to a normal level. Does she take any medications on a daily basis?"

When Peter shook his head no, the doctor nodded, reiterated that the nurse would be by to get what was needed to run the test in a few minutes and left the room, leaving Peter to sit back down and wait for the nurse.

It didn't take but ten minutes for her to come in and ask him to step outside. Once out in the hall, he spotted a vending machine at the end of the hall and, hoping it was one that had coffee in it, headed that way.

He was leaning on the wall outside the room drinking the most disgusting cup of coffee he had ever had in his life when the nurse came back out, letting him know she was done and someone would be around in a little while to take his girl to a room. When he went back in, he saw tears sliding down Isabella's cheeks. Brows drawing at the sight, Peter went over and, after setting his coffee cup down, he sat on the bed next to her, gently using the side of his finger to wipe the tears away, "what's the matter, "Little Darlin'?"

Isabella sniffled and looked up at the concern filled eyes of her boyfriend as tears kept slipping from her eyes. Her voice was a quiet whimper, "I just had a giant q-tip shoved up my ass because I couldn't poop."

Peter grimaced a little at that. That did not sound pleasant. Running his fingers through her hair, he tisked, "well, it's over now so you go ahead and go back to sleep, alright? They want ya stayin' here for awhile so they can keep an eye on ya. I gotta step out an' make some calls but I'll find ya when they move ya." She went to open her mouth and Peter covered her mouth with his hand, "sleep, Little Darlin'."

Once she nodded, Peter kissed her forehead, grabbed his coffee and went outside for some fresh air, a cigarette and to call the ones that needed to know that he wasn't going to be present at the arena the next day.

 ***X***

"This stuff tastes like shit."

Peter looked over the back of the couch into the kitchen where Isabella was glaring at the bottle of liquid antibiotics. Shaking his head a little, he turned back to the show he was watching, "take your meds,Little Darlin'. And while ya at it, don't forget the iron pill this time."

Isabella turned that glare on the back of Peter's head, giving him the finger while she was at it. The meds tasted like someone took a shit on her tongue and the iron pill was bigger then she was. She didn't FORGET to take shit, she just didn't take it. It wasn't like she KNEW he was counting to make sure she took her pills.

Tossing the spoon in the sink, she went and plopped down next to Peter on the couch, leaning into his side. After a few minutes, she looked up at him, "I'm bored."

Peter looked down at her and cocked a brow at her, "what ya wanna do, Sugar Britches?"

Thinking for a minute, she hummed, "I wanna see the ranch."

Humming in his throat, Peter nodded, "alright. Go change into something a little lighter. It's a little hot for sweats. I'll meet you out at the barn."

"Barn?"

Peter smirked as he nodded again, "you'll see. Go change." After a look from his girl, who then went to go change out of the sweats she has been living in since they arrived at the ranch, Peter got up, put on his boot, grabbed his hat and was out the door.

The had been there now for about three week and this was the first time that his girl had felt up to leaving the house. Between the antibiotics she was on and her body trying to get used to actually having iron in her blood, she has been having a little trouble with stomach aches and sleeping issues.

She was also a cranky bitch over the fact that her doctor told her she wasn't allowed to have any red meat... as all... until she finished taking the meds she was put on and the salmonella poisoning was cleared out. She might not have been a Texan but she was as gung-ho about her cow as any born and raised one. She still had a week or so left and she was not happy about it.

He figured her lack of pissiness over the discovery he was keeping secrets from her was because she wasn't up to snuff when they got there and he was proved right when she finally let him have it a few days ago when the worst of the poisoning passed. She wasn't so much pissed off as she was 'hurt over it'. He, as a guy, didn't understand that one. It wasn't like he was HIDING it, he just didn't think to mention it.

He was right in assuming that she figured that he didn't live with his parents at 26, but she hadn't anticipated that he lived on a fifteen square acre ranch on the border of California and Nevada five months out of the year. He was actually only in Texas for a couple of weeks, collectively, over the year when he went down for the county fair and his mama's birthday. This year was the longest he had been there in the last five and that was only because he broke his foot.

She didn't seem to stay mad about it long though and had sense spent a massive amount of time exploring the house and relaxing in the library or by the closed in pool because she hadn't felt up to going outside. Now that she seemed to be feeling better, Peter was actually kinda excited about showing her around the grounds, one place in particular.

Before he had the chance to leave the house however, he heard Isabella scream. Pivoting on point, he bolted through the house, slamming into more than one wall due to the lack of traction his boots had on the floors, and shoulder checked the bathroom door, throwing it open to find his girl staring at her phone in absolute horror.

Going to her side, he gently took the phone from her, setting it on the counter and setting his hands on her shoulders, trying to pull her attention from the device to him. Giving her a light shake, he watched her eyes snap from the phone to his. His eyes narrowed a little when he saw those eyes again, the ones from the day they met. Glancing behind him at the phone sitting innocently where he put it, he then looked back at Isabella, "what happened?"

Isabella looked into the jade green eyes looking deep into hers, the eyes of a pissed off guardian angel ready to lose everything to protect her. Her voice trembled and shook but she was able to get out, "he found me."

Pulling his girl to him, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders she buried her face in his chest, and picked up her phone. Hitting a button and lighting up the screen again he read the text that had his lady in tears.

 _Enjoy your time playing house, Love. Soon it'll all be over and you'll be right where you belong and so will the backwoods hick. By the way, love the little blue suit. You should wear it more._

Peter glared at the screen for a moment before clearing out of the message and made a call.

Three rings later, _'Hello?"_

"Al, it's Witty. I'm callen in that favor."

There was a chuckle on the other end of the line, _"took ya ass long enough, Pete. Whatcha need?"_

Peter glanced down at the top of his girls head, watching as she trembled and could almost actually SMELL the fear coming off her. Voice turning darker as the glare on his face deepened, "Everyone."

That boy think he can do whatever the fuck he wants and not face the consequences of it, Peter had no issues showing the spoiled little bastard why no one messes with 'backwood hicks'.


	13. Chapter 13

By six that night there was a knock on the front door. Looking at his lady, Peter got up to answer it, leaving her at the kitchen table. Not bothering to see who it was, he opened the door, a smirk coming to his lips as he held out a hand to a very old friend of his from childhood. "Been a long time, Al."

Shaking his hand in return, "too long, Peter. How's ya mama doin'?"

Moving to the side to let Alistair in, Peter shut the door and led him to the kitchen, "doin' real good. Pa's threw out his back few months back, but he doin' fine now." Once they got to the kitchen, Peter went over to his quickly getting drunk girlfriend, wrapping an arm around her, "this here's my lady, Isabella. Sugar, this is Alistair Vega."

Isabella didn't say a word to him, simply lifted her glass in a saluted hello before taking her shot and reaching for the bottle of Jake on the table again.

Peter glanced at Alistar quickly before looking back at his girl. The reason that Peter called him and not his brother and cousin about this was because Alistair had experience dealing with battered ladies and the pieces of shit that did the battering. He also had connections and the like that were gonna come in mighty handy.

Alistair set the case in his hand on the kitchen table and took a seat across from the young lady. After folding his hands in front of him, he cocked his head to the side, "you know that ain't gonna do nothing but make ya hate ya self in the mornin', right?"

Tossing back another shot, Isabella sighed, "yup." Then she pointed a finger at him and winked, "but it numbs ya" lowering her voice into a stage whisper, "hurts less." Then she smiled and poured another shot.

Peter let her have that last shot but took the shot glass and bottle off the table, prompting his girl to pout a little. Before she had a chance to verbally protest him actions, Peter leaned on the counter and looked at her, "you still on medication and if memory serves, you ain't supposed to be drinkin' at all. Get over it and pay attention... if ya can."

Isabella continued to pout for a minute but never said a word about it. Instead, she just nodded and turned to the guy Peter had been telling her about over the course of the afternoon. "Sorry, it's just been a really bad day."

Alistair just smiled at her, "think nothin' of it, Doll." Nodding to Peter, "he tell ya why I'm here?"

Isabella shook her head, "no, not really. He told me some stories about you guys growing up, but that was about it."

Alistair glared over her shoulder, "I bet he did." Peter just winked at him so letting that go for the time being, he turned back to the Betty, "Can I have your phone, Miss. Isabella?"

"Just Bella..." Reaching into her back pocket for the requested phone, she held it out to him, "why?"

Taking the phone and opening the case he had with him, Alistair smiled at her, "well, since this guy knows where you are, don't you think it's only fair you know where HE is?"

Blinking at him, Isabella cocked her head to the side, "how?"

Hooking the phone up to a cord and flipping a switch, Alistair glanced at her a second before going back to what he was doing, "I'm gonna track the phone he contacted you from. I'm gonna assume it isn't the number you know it to be."

She shook her head, "no, it wasn't, but I tried and it came back as a disposable cell. I thought you couldn' track those."

Alistair smirked a little, sitting back and crossing his arms as his equipment began to beep and whirl, "you're right, YOU can't... I can."

Dropping back against the seat, Isabella just stared at him a moment in astonishment, "how?"

"While Peter here was the daredevil with a death wish, the rest of our circle actually went off to school after we graduated. I went to CalTech. There is very little to do with electronics that I cannot do. Tracking and tracing disposable cell phones was 101 my senior year."

Still shocked at the off handedness of his voice, Isabella just nodded a little, "so, what happens when you find him? Are you gonna call the cops?"

A very dark look settled on Alistair's face at her question, an amused chuckle rumbling in his chest as he shrugged a shoulder, "eventually, once the prick learns his lesson."

Isabella looked back and forth between he and Peter a few times, taking in their matching looks and had a very bad feeling she knew what he meant by that. She just wanted to be sure, "what does that mean?"

Alistair also looked over at Peter for a moment before locking his hazel eyes on her brown ones, "Don't you worry that pretty little head of yours over the finer details, Dolly. Not something a lady should hear anyways." Glancing at his own phone when it rang, he picked it up and looked at the caller ID. "I gotta take this, excuse me"

Once he was out of the kitchen, Isabella turned to look at Peter, who held a hand up to stave off any questions she was about to ask, "Please, Little Darlin', don't. I don't wanna havta lie to ya."

Isabella looked hard at him, "I don't wanna see you get in trouble, Peter."

Peter snorted a little, "If that's the only problem, ya ain't got nothing to worry 'bout, Sugar Britches. 'Sides that, the little fucker threatened me, somethin' ya just don't do without gettin' a good ol' southern ass whoopin' and that is somethin' the prick is in sore need of. I'll bet just about anythin' that when he was growin' up, he never even got put in a time out while my parents busted my ass.

"That, Little Lady, is the biggest difference between us southerners and ya'll from north of the Mason Dixon. Ya'll get away with murder while we was knocked into next week for giving our parents a dirty look. My daddy still scares the shit out of me and I got him by six inches and over fifty pounds, but I'll still cower like a toddler when he gets pissed off. We get the fear of God put in us at real young ages and it is because of that that we actually have manners and respect for our elders."

"There's a difference between respect and fear, Peter. I was never spanked and I respect my dad."

Peter cocked a brow at her, "ya do, huh? You wanna know what would have happened to me had I talked to my daddy the way to you talked to yours the other week? My daddy would've hunted my ass down and knocked my fuckin' teeth out the minute I said 'fuck you'. There are times, places, and people you talk like that too, but it ain't EVER to your parents. There ain't shit they can do to you to deserve to be spoken to like that. My mama's favorite thing to say to me and my brother when we was growin' up was, 'I brought you into this world, I can take you back out' and she fuckin' meant it. Matter of fact, if we was at a friends house and fucked up, we got our ass busted by their parents before we was sent home and got it again we when we got there.

"It was never about getting us kids to be afraid of our parents. It was so we didn't grow up and be like this sumbitch and think that it's alright. We understand that there are consequences for doin' somethin' wrong and we know how to weigh that consequence against the gain we get for doin' it anyway. I don't want you thinkin' that I'm scared of my parents, I'm not, I respect my parents and love them both with everythin' I got. However, that's not to say that I will ever be ol' 'nuff to not get my ass whooped by them for fuckin' up. No matter how old we get, we still always gonna be their babies and they always gonna be there to keep us on the right path. I ain't ever gonna look back on my life and think anythin' bad about my mama and daddy. Can you say that?"

Isabella just looked at Peter a moment before dropping her eyes. No, she couldn't. She wasn't the biggest fan of her mother and Peter knew that already. Plus, he had a point when it came to the way she last spoke to her dad. In her defense, she was pissed off but that didn't really make it okay to say half of what she did. After a minute, she looked back up at him, "you were never grounded, were you?"

Peter cocked a brow at her, "fuck no, I ain't ever been grounded. What the hell's the point of takin' somethin' away from a kid when bustin' their ass works much faster and leaves a longer lastin' impression on the tyke? Get ya ass busted enough and they will make a mental note what not to do to avoid it happenin' again. Now, don't be thinkin' that we was abused or nothin' like it. We was disciplined for fuckin' up but we was leaps and bounds from anythin' like that. I ain't ever had no marks or nothin' broken when my daddy busted my ass, least not as little kid. He did bust my lip when I was sixteen which is exactly how I know what he would do if I had said to him what you said to yours.

"Just like there is a difference between respect and fear, there is a difference between abuse and discipline. It ain't abuse to swat a kid on the ass for actin' up or pop 'em in the mouth for talkin' back. They ain't gonna like it, but that's kinda the point. They learn what is acceptable behavior for different situations real quick. When the time comes for me to be a daddy, ya can bet your little ass I'll bust theirs in a heartbeat. Kids'll test their boundaries and it's our jobs as parents to teach them what those are. Ya can be a friend to your kids, or ya can be a parent, ya can't be both, not when they rugrats anyways. When you try and be a friend, they don't learn the difference between right and wrong and they turn into little bastards that ain't got a lick of respect for no one."

Before Isabella could say anything back to him about that, Alistair came back in, a smirk on his face. He had caught the tail end of the conversation and felt it necessary to goad Peter a little while he waited for the trace to finish up, "you 'member when we was eight and you got in that fight with Ben over who could climb the oak at the back of the field faster and he ended up breaking his leg?"

Peter ran his hand down his face and looked up at the ceiling, nodding, "yeah, little hard to forget that one. I thought my daddy was gonna kill me so I didn't go home. By the time they found me, my mama was nearly out of her mind. I wasn't allowed out of her sight for like a week. Not the best time of my life."

Alistair smirked as he sat back down, "she even put you in an apron, didn't she?" Peter glared at him and gave him the finger at the same time the thing he brought beeped calling his attention back to it. Hitting a few buttons, Alistair cocked a brow and hummed a bit. "Looks like he ain't all that far from here, or at least the phone ain't anyways." Looking up at the whimper, Alistair smiled a little at the pale female across from him, "don't worry just yet, Doll." Then he looked at Peter, "the gang's all here. That was Lee. He and the others just landed and are on their way to a hotel 'fore they head on over. Should be here in 'bout an hour."

It never failed to amaze Peter at just how fast everyone dropped everything when Alistair picked up a phone. Rolling his head on his shoulders for a moment in thought, Peter nodded to himself, "then I gotta run out right quick. I'll be about a half hour or so, so ya'll wanna come along or ya wanna stay here?"

Isabella looked at him, "where ya goin'?"

"Store. Been meanin' to go, but ain't done it yet. There ain't enough food in the house to feed my boys and we're low on beer."

At that Isabella giggled a little, "so, they're a lot like the boys from the rez, then? You saw how much food I had to make when they came over."

Peter gave her a flat look, "Baby Doll, you dealin' with country boys now. That 'big' breakfast you made, that would be an appetizer for us."

Isabella blinked at him but Alistair was the one that answered, "you g'on, Pete. Me and your Lady be fine withoutcha for a while."

Both Peter and Isabella looked over at him, matching looks of 'what the fuck' on their faces. Peter looked at him a for a long moment before he cocked a brow, "what you up to, Al?"

There was a smirk on Alistair's face as he smirked, "nothin'. I just wanna get to know the lady that finally wrangled your ass."

Completely unamused at the comment, Peter crossed his arms, "ya sure ya'll be alright?"

At that, Alistair stood up and reached behind him, under his jacket and pulled out his glock, and cocked the chamber, "Positive."

 ***X***

Twenty minutes after Peter left, Isabella was laughing her ass off as Alistair told her all manner of stories about Peter from when they were kids. From what she had been able to gather was he was the youngest of the whole group that was on their way by about six months but, if given ranks and such, he would be considered the ringleader. Most the bigger shenanigans they pulled as kids were his ideas, and the ones that weren't he still stood up and took the blame when they got caught.

She was currently learning that her cowboy had a record of his own, starting when he was fifteen. He was never booked on anything overly serious, just stupid ass teenage bullshit and hell raising, trespassing and underage drinking and such. None of the older boys would ever let him get in trouble for the real serious shit that they pulled.

As a matter of fact, Alistair and this kid named Lex each took an assault charge for him when he was sixteen in exchange for all the ass whoopin's he took for them over the years.

"You gotta understand, Sweet Pea, things are different back home. We look out for each other and we never leave a debt unpaid. I can't tell ya how many times Peter faced his daddy for us and the sumbitch deserved to get his ass beat much worse than what Peter did to him. Not a day goes by that I regret sendin' his ass home to his mama 'fore the law showed up I'll bet my horse that Lex'll say the same."

Isabella bit her lip and cocked her head to the side, "what favor did you owe him to be here now?"

Alistair ran his hand through his hair and sighed a little, "'fore I answer that, I want you to know, I'da come anyways. Peter is like the kid brother I ain't ever had and I'd do anythin' for him, just like his own brother would." Once Isabella nodded her understanding, he crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat.

"'Bout four years back, my kid cousin was in a nasty situation, a lot like the one you were in, and Peter footed the bill to get her out of it. She was livin' in England where she was going to school and, at the time, I didn't have the money on hand to fly her home. I doubt I gotta tell ya the boy got a temper but he don't lost it over nothin'. It's explosive but he got the fuse of saint to counteract it. When I called him to ask for help, before we even got off the phone, he had tickets bought and told me where to be and when. He went along with me and we brought my cousin home, after Peter taught the little fucker the same lesson he gonna teach that Yankee iffen he ever gets his hands on him. He told me not to worry 'bout it, I told him to mind it and call if ever needed anythin'."

At that, Alistair shook his head, "however, I never, not in a million years, thought he would be callin' me for the same reason." Scratching his eyebrow with the back of his thumb nail, "I don't doubt that by now Peter called up Jasper and told him what was goin' on, but I know he called me first because I can do some wicked shit with computers."

Isabella thought about that for a moment, but before she said anything, a shadow passed over her from the kitchen window.


	14. Chapter 14

From where Alistair was sitting, he couldn't be seen from the outside so when he saw the shadow slide over the young lady across from him and the fear spark in her eyes, he was out of his seat, gun in hand, pulling her up and along behind him.

Moving through the halls in a ducked position, he stopped in an area with no visible line of sight from anywhere but inside the house. Looking at the girl, he put a finger to his lips and, after she nodded, Alistair peeked out from around the wall towards the front on the house. When he didn't see anything, he looked back at his friend's terrified girlfriend. Crooking a finger under her chin, he forced her to look him in the eyes. Once he had her attention, "you ever shoot a gun before, Sweet Pea?"

Swallowing hard, Isabella nodded a bit, "a BB gun."

"Good enough." Taking her hands, he put his 9mm in them and flicked off the safety, "You see him or anyone you don't know, aim high and you pull the fuckin' trigger, ya hear?. This got a bit more recoil than a pellet gun so be prepared for that."

Stunned, Isabella jolted a bit, "what?"

Giving her a reassuring smile, Alistair lowered his voice a little, "it's called a warning shot for a reason, Sweet Pea. When they look to see where it came from, they lookin' down the barrel of gun no matter where you aimin'. It'll also let me know someone here that ain't supposed to be. Everything is gonna be just fine, I promise. Just stay right here and I'll be right back, alright Sweet Pea?" When she nodded to him, he smiled at her, "Atta girl."

Once he was positive she was as alright as she was gonna get, Alistair peeked back around the corner before getting up and, once again staying low, moved back the house to the front door, grabbing Peter's rifle that was propped against the wall. After checking to see if it was loaded, he leaned against the wall and looked out the window without touching the window covers.

When he saw the distorted body of someone through the glass, he cocked the gun with one hand while reaching for the doorknob with the other, glancing behind him when he heard the lady of the house squeak at the sound. It was kind of a scary noise if you're already freaking out... and drunk. Moving his eyes back to the door when he heard voices, he glared hard before throwing the front door open and taking aim, "I otta fuckin' shoot ya'll on principal, ya stupid bastards." Taking a sick pleasure in how his ol' buddies jumped back and held their hands up, he lowered the barrel and called back into the house as he clicked the safety back on, "you can come out now, Sweet Pea. It's alright. It's just mine and Peter's dumbass friends."

Reily and Felix looked through the doorway and saw the terrified brown eyes of the young lady Al had told them about when he first called them.

Alistair just glared at them again before turning away from them and going back into the house, setting the rifle back in it's place by the door and going over Isabella. Crouching down next to her, he very gently, but quickly, disarmed her and reclicked the safety before putting it back in the holster. Staying right where he was, he returned to glaring at his friends, "what the fuck is wrong with you two? First off, ya'll ain't even supposed to be here yet, and second, why the fuck wouldn't ya give a little warning before scaring the shit out of Witty's girlfriend? You do realized he gonna fuck ya'll up when he gets home, right?" Glancing at his watch, "which is gonna be just about any time now."

Reily and Felix looked at each other for a second before looking back at Alistair and Isabella. Reily was the first to say something, "sorry, Sugar. We didn't mean to scare ya. We figured ya'll heard the truck."

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly while wiping the tears off her cheeks, Isabella tried to smile at them, "don't worry about it. It has just been a really shitty day." Taking the hand presented to her and getting to her feet, she waved the boys in with a little better of a smile. "Peter ran to the store. Come on in."

After tipping their hats to her, they did just that, shutting the door behind them and wiping their boots off before following her and Alistair back to the kitchen.

Isabella went to the fridge and opened it, pursing her lips a bit at just HOW low they were on beer. Shrugging a bit, she grabbed two and handed them to the newcomers with a smile, "so, what are your names?"

Riley took his beer with a smile, "I'm Riley but most people just call me Lee."

Nodding over at Felix, "that's Felix, but he been goin' by Lex since we was kids."

Isabella smiled at them again, "Well, I'm Bella but I have yet found someone that actually calls me that."

Lee snorted, "and chances are, ya won't. Where we come from, a lady is hardly ever called by name 'less she married and even then it depends."

Sighing lightly at that, Isabella nodded but before she said anything, the front door opened. A minute later Peter walked into the room, a case of beer in one hand and a bag of something in the other. He paused a little at the sight of Lee and Lex. Glancing towards Alistair to ask what the fuck happened to an hour, he saw his girl first, and her still red and puffy eyes. Looking back at the two that were not there when he left, he set the shit in his hands down and crossed his arms, a glare on his face. After a moment or two, "why don't ya'll two come give me a hand unloading the truck."

Nodding to the not actually asked question, the boys set their beers down and followed Peter outside knowing wholly well it was better to get reamed for scaring the girl to tears now than it would be to wait until later.

Isabella watched after them until she couldn't see them anymore before looking back at Alistair, who didn't look even the slightest bit concerned about the situation. "He's not really mad, is he?"

Alistair cocked a brow at her as he took a pull of his beer. After swallowing the mouthful, he nodded, "oh, he's pissed. He'll give 'em an ear full, possibly a crack on the back of the head and it'll be like it never happened. When it comes to this particular little gang we got, there ain't no grudge holdin'. We deal with shit and let it go. I guarantee they laughin' 'bout some stupid shit when they come back in."

He wasn't wrong. Ten minutes later, the door opened again, the sound of laughter bouncing off the walls nearly covering the indignant voice of either Lee or Lex, she wasn't sure. Looking back at Alistair, who had kicked his feet up on the table and crossed his ankles, she stared with wide eyes as he lifted his beer bottle and winked at her, "told ya" and took a drink, killing the last of his beer. Smirking at the still stunned lady, "you ain't buds for twenty some odd years and not learn a few things over them years, Sweet Pea. Don't worry, you'll be 'round long enough to learn."

Blinking at him, Isabella glanced over her shoulder when she heard something hit the ground before turning back and lowering her voice, "what?"

Alistair just shrugged at her and tapped the tip of his nose before lacing his fingers together and putting his hands behind his head right as the other boys came back into the room, that same smirk on his face that clearly said, 'I know something you don't know'.

 ***X***

It was a little more than a half hour later when there was a blaring car horn outside making Isabella jump a little and the boys roll their eyes. Peter stood up from the table with a sigh, "idiots."

Peter went to the door and leaned on the jam when he opened it, calling out, "ya'll a bunch of fuckers, know that shit?"

There was laughter as the engine was cut and the driver got out, "Awe, come Petey. Ya know your ass missed us."

Peter snorted, "about as much as my wisdom teeth, Dem. Well, come on in. Everyone's in the kitchen."

Demetri followed after him, "can't wait to meet this girl of yours, Pete. She sounds like quite the little peach."

Peter smirked over his shoulder, "that she is. You fuck with her and I'll put a hurtin' on ya, ya fuckin' hear me?"

Once Peter and the last of his guests got to the kitchen, there was a round of 'hey's' but Isabella was in a state of shock at the sight that met her eyes when she turned around.

Peter smiled at her, "Darlin', these are the other two fuckers ya been hearin' 'bout. This here is Demetri, Dem for short and this asshole is..."

She cut him off, "Patrick?"

Patrick crossed his arms and smirked, chuckling hard, "well now, would ya lookie here. Seems I get to kick the bastard's ass again."

The rest of the boys looked back and forth between the two a few times before Alistair called out what everyone was thinking, "ya'll two know each other?"

Isabella shook her a head a little, "not well, no. He lived on the floor below Edward and I. It was him and his roommate Matt that helped me out the day Edward got arrested. I had more interaction with Matt that night than I did him since he was busy with Edward."

Peter gave her an indignant look and pointed to Patrick, "You got me mixed up with THIS fucker the day we met? Seriously?"

Jaw dropping a little, she stared at him for a minute, mouth opening and closing a few times. She had no idea what to say to that. Tripping over her tongue a few times, all she could get out was, "uh... sorry?" and shrugged a bit.

Peter snorted before he chuckled, "I'm fuckin' with ya, Baby Doll. I've known Rick here since I was three. Matter of fact, we got mistaken for brothers till we was what..." He turned to Rick and pursed his lips, "seven, eight?"

Rick shrugged a little, "somethin' like it. You didn't start lookin' like Jazz till you was damn near ten." Then he turned back and smiled at the still clearly stunned lady, "The only person 'sides my momma when I'm in hot water that calls me Patrick was Matt. Everyone normally just calls me Rick." Leaning on the counter and crossing his arms, his eyes softened a bit, "how ya been, Doll? Ya had me worried 'bout ya for a while there that night and more than once over the last few months."

Licking her lips, she scratched the back of her head and shrugged, "alright. Took about a month for the bruise to fade completely and about six weeks for the bone to heal. I met Peter about a month after I left California and been with him ever since. I have no complaints."

Peter snorted, "Better not."

Rick glared at him a bit, "glad to hear it, Dolly." Looking back at her, "I would really hate to have stomp his ass too."

Peter rolled his eyes, "like ya fuckin' could. I've been kickin' your ass for twenty years Ricky and that shit ain't 'bout to change."

Looking at his best friend out of the corner of his eye, Rick cocked a brow, "you ain't tried in seven years Witty and a lot can change over that much time."

Peter smirked at him, "not that much."

Before the two could really get into it, as they were prone to doing, Alistair whistled, "yo, knock it off you two. I ain't really in the mood to play referee tonight. Ya'll can fuck each other up tomorrow." Once the two youngest settled back down, Alistair looked at Peter, "so what's the plan then?"

Peter shrugged, "fuck if I know at this point. I got a competition comin' up and I would REALLY like to not have a repeat of the last time he showed up at one. Jasper got some serious shit goin' on right now and ain't gonna be able to fly out here for at least two weeks..."

Lee cut in at that point, "and it too late for ya to back out, right?"

Peter shook his head, "actually it's not, but if I back out I lose my slot in the nationals. The one I got comin' up is a qualifier for it. I don't ride in it, I don't ride in that, already a title holder or not."

Every single person, Isabella included, grimaced at that. They ALL knew just how important that shit was to him. They were all aware that the only thing that would stop him from riding in this competition was his mama, something that not even Isabella would fault him for. Peter had been riding rodeos long before she came along and she wouldn't ever expect him, or even WANT him, to stop doing it.

Over the last few months, SHE even fell in love with the scene and would never try and come between him and arena, never mind the fact that she knew she would never win that fight.

What none of them had anyway of knowing was, Peter would drop it in a heartbeat if she asked him to.

Dem hummed a little and cocked his head a bit, "when and where?"

Glancing his way, Peter tisked, "starts Saturday in Vegas. I'm scheduled for Sunday since I am otherwise occupied Saturday and BECAUSE I'm a title holder, they gave me the preferred time slot I wanted."

"Whatcha got goin' on Saturday?"

Peter nodded at Isabella, "My lady's birthday is Saturday and I promised no rodeos on her birthday. Course that was made before the qualifyin' dates came out, but since I hold six of seven gold or silver titles this year, I got to keep it."

Lex snorted, "only six of seven? Losin' your touch there Witty."

Peter growled a little in his throat and glared at him, "I have a title in all seven asshole. The seventh however is only the bronze" then he glared at the floor "fuckin' bull".

Lex Dropped his face in his hand, sighing a little hard. Like six of seven is the most horrible thing ever. He couldn't understand why Peter got so pissed off about that ONE third place ranking when there isn't a rider in recent history that has had THAT many national championships at once. There ain't a single person amongst them that could do HALF of what that boy could do on a horse. He could ride circles around the lot of them blindfolded and he's pissed off over a third place ranking in BULL riding. He kinda wanted to punch his youngest friend at the moment.

"That wasn't what the fuck I meant you jackoff, and you know it." Looking back up at him, he crossed his arms, "anyway, I ain't got shit goin' on for a while. You wantin' some extra protection for your lady, I got no problems taggin' 'long with ya to Vegas. 'Sides, I ain't see ya in action in a month of Sundays."

Rick was the next to nod, "I ain't see ya ride since the juniors and I ain't ever been to Vegas. I'm in."

Lee smirked, "a weekend in Vegas and a chance to see ya eat dirt? I wouldn't miss this shit for the world." He laughed as he ducked the flying bottle cap aimed for his head, giving Peter the finger when he saw the glare he was receiving.

Dem shrugged a bit, "I gotta clear it with the ol' lady, but count me in too. If anything, she'll wanna go too."

Peter then looked at Alistair, who cocked a brow at him, "I ain't goin' nowhere till this sumbitch is dealt with, you should know that. I been tellin' ya since we was little, I got ya back, no matter what."

Isabella looked around the room and, just because she was still a little drunk, she put her hand up, "Ooo, ooo, I wanna go, I wanna go."

Every set of eyes landed on her and she just smiled a little and giggled, breaking the mushy atmosphere in the air and making the boys chuckle right along with her.


	15. Chapter 15

The few days spent at the ranch once Peter's friends showed up was spent with the boys binge drinking, catching up from the last time they all got together and beating the shit out of each other. Isabella just sat back and watched as they did it too, not doing a damn thing to interfere with the bonding time. She took them to the hospital if it became necessary, and it did more than once, but other than that, she just sat back and got to know the guys.

It was late Sunday night when the guys showed back up at the ranch after checking out of their hotels and meeting up for the two hour drive to Vegas for the weekend. Since Isabella had never been there, she wanted to go for her birthday as long as Peter kept his promise and kept his distance from the arena.

Peter had no issues with that. He had plans for the day that had nothing to do horses. He couldn't stay away completely and he explained that he had to swing by for at least twenty minutes to register for the events he was riding in on Sunday and turn in his Rocky's papers. Other than that, he would keep his promise.

The plan was to drive in tonight, check into their rooms and, even though it was 24/7 night life, it was gonna be going on 2 when they got to the hotel after dropping Rocky off at the stables so at least Peter and Isabella were gonna call it a night. Peter planned on getting up early, letting his girl sleep in and go get his registration shit done before she ever woke up so she wouldn't have to do deal with it at all.

Since there was a qualifying event going on, the hotels were already pretty booked, but Peter worked some magic and got them into the same hotel he and his girl were already booked at. Nobody asked how he did it and he didn't offer an explanation. They didn't need to know he just dropped an obscene amount of money and for that matter, they didn't need to know he even had that kind of money. His girl didn't even know he had the kind of money he did. She knew he made his living in the arena but she didn't know just how many times a year he went to Vegas in the five months he spent at home... or how good he was at Texas hold 'em and five card draw.

He would make his money back by the end of the weekend.

Currently, they were in the truck, Peter rolling his eyes at his girl and the conversation she was having with Alistair, who was riding in the tiny ass back seat so he didn't hull off and beat the shit out of Lee.

They were twenty minutes from the stables and he was fucking tired. Rolling his head on his shoulders, Peter picked up his phone, flipping it open and hitting the number four and hit send.

Two rings later, _"where ya at, Witty?"_

"Fifteen, twenty minutes out."

There was a yawn and grunt on the other end of the line before Hoss came back on, _"Alight; meet ya there."_

Swallowing a yawn of his own, "thanks Hoss."

After hanging up, Peter shook his head a bit and put his phone down.

Alistair leaned up between the seats, leaning against the passenger side and set his chin in his hand, "want me to drive after we drop Rocky off? I know you ain't been sleepin' well and you lookin' like you about to pass out. There is still a half hour drive after that."

Glancing at him, Peter nodded as he shifted a bit and cracked his back with a grunt, "yeah, thanks."

Looking at Peter a minute longer, "I'll untrailer Rocky, you get some sleep. Sweet Pea here'll wake ya when we get there."

Looking back over at Al, ready to argue, he swallowed the decline when he saw the look he was getting. He learned a long time ago not to argue with Alistair was THAT serious and if he was looking at him like that, he must really look like shit or something. So, instead, he just nodded.

When they pulled up to the stables, he handed over his keys, gave the expected threat about hurtin' his horse, climbed into the passenger seat once his girl was in the back, put the seat back, covered his face with his hat and was out like a light before Alistair ever got the trailer unlocked.

It was a little over an hour later that he was shaken awake outside Caesar's Palace... and he was not a happy fucker about it either. Arching against the seat to get his spine straight again, Peter opened blurry eyes and blinked a few times before rubbing them with the heels of his palms.

Giving his head another shake, he got out and climbed into the truck bed, catching the keys when Alistair tossed them to him and unlocked the steel box in the bed. He pulled out the luggage and his saddle, not wanting to leave it in the truck for two days. After locking the box back up and removing that particular key from the ring, he tossed the valet the rest and hopped back out of the bed.

Alistair already had his saddle shouldered and a bag and Rick had picked up Isabella's so he grabbed his, presented his arm to his girl and they went inside for room keys. Once those were gotten and handed out, they took the elevator up, said good night when they got to Peter and Isabella's floor, Alistair getting off as well since he had Peter's prized possession with him after trading his bag for hers.

There was a half hearted threat from Peter about not fucking up the room the other boys were staying in that carried enough weight to get a nod out of Alistair before they parted ways.

Not twenty minutes later, both Peter and his girl were sleeping like the dead, Isabella laying on Peter's chest.

 ***X***

It was about 11 the next morning when Peter got back to the hotel after taking care of his registration and getting his passes and shit. On his way back to the hotel, he made a coffee run and a slight detour to pick up a little something for his girl for her birthday. He had already gotten the tickets to Cirque du Soleil for that night since that was what she had said she wanted to do, but taking her to a show was a date, not a present. It was a fairly simple choker by design, but it wasn't a cheap one and he could actually picture just how pissed off his girl was about to be when she opened the box making him smirk to himself.

She shouldn't have gotten him four thousand dollar saddle for his birthday if she didn't want him to top it for hers was his thoughts on the matter.

When he got back to their room, he heard the shower running so he set the stuff in his hands down and headed that way. Knocking on the door, he waited for her to call out before letting her know he was back and was baring coffee. Snorting at the squeal, Peter rolled his eyes and shook his head before leaving the door and going back into the main room to call downstairs for lunch reservations while at the same time texting the guys and making sure their asses were up.

By the time he was done with that, his girl appeared in the room, bouncing on her toes and begging for her coffee.

Peter just cocked a brow at her, "ya sure ya need it, Little Darlin'?" Smirking at her glare, he handed over the vanilla latte after he got his kiss and picked up his own coffee before sitting down, "So, what do you wanna do for most of the day? You get to play boss until 6."

Plopping down next to him, Isabella leaned into his side and and looked up at him, "only till 6? What happens at 6?"

Smirking a little bigger at the pout in her voice, Peter pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out the tickets to the show that night at 7, "I figured you wanted some time to get a shower 'fore this starts."

Isabella looked at the tickets in his hand and damn near choked on her coffee. Hacking on the hot liquid that went down the wrong pipe, she took them and looked closer before looking at him in astonishment, "Peter, these seats are amazing!"

Smiling at her, Peter kissed her forehead, "Happy Birthday, Little Darlin'. Why don't you go get dressed and we'll head down for lunch and make a game plan for the day over that, sound good?"

Giving him a little grin, Isabella shrugged, "ya know, since it's my birthday and all, I wouldn't mind just ordering in and staying naked all day and watching crappy B rated movies with shitty plots and even worse acting. The shittier the better."

Setting his coffee down and taking hers away as well, he leaned towards her and she leaned back until she was laying down on the seat, Peter over her with that smirk on his face that never failed to turn her to goo, "that sounds like a good idea."

It would have been had there not been a knock on their door right before his lips touched hers. So, instead of kissing his girl, he dropped his forehead to her chest and growled a little in this throat before glaring at the door out of the corner of his eyes. Right at the moment, he didn't give a rat's ass who was on the other side, he was gonna punch 'em.

With a hard sigh, he got up and went to the door, not looking to see who it was, before opening the door, nearly seeing red at the two dumb fucks on the other side. Crossing his arms, "what?"

Lee and Lex glanced at each other before turning back to the man they just figured out they cock-blocked. Lex shook his head, "not important. We'll see ya later."

Glaring a little harder, "damage been done, might as well tell me why ya here."

Lee answered, "Al and Rick wanted to know..."

"Then why didn't they come on down and ask?"

From behind him, there was a snort before a sing-song voice called out, "'cause they actually use the brain God gave them."

Rubbing between his eyes, Peter sighed again, "not helping, Baby Doll."

"I know."

Shaking his head and glancing over his shoulder, "go get dressed, please." Isabella giggled a little, picked up her coffee and after a little wave to the boys, left the room and Lee and Lex to the mercy that Peter wasn't really in the mood to show. Once the door to the bedroom was shut, Peter returned to glaring at his friends, "what now?"

Clearing his throat, Lee tried again; "They wanted to know of Ya'll wanted to head over to the Stratosphere. There is some kind of rides there or somethin'."

Peter leaned on the door frame and cocked a brow, "right at the moment, we have lunch reservations. Ya'll do what ya want for the day. I got tickets for the cirque du Soleil tonight at 7. Be in the lobby at 6:30 if ya wanna go. It's my lady's birthday and I have every intention of spending with her... ALONE... for most of the day, ya hear?"

They both nodded real quick, "yup. See ya later, Witty."

Peter just gave them the finger before shutting the door in their faces.

 ***X***

For the most part, Peter and Isabella spent the majority of their day at the hotel. After they went to lunch, they browsed the shops and even spent a little time in the casino, Peter winning the money he had spent back, like he knew he would, and his girl losing a thousand dollars much to his amusement and her ire.

"I told ya to stay, Little Darlin'. You were the one that didn't want to listen."

Glaring hard, Isabella sneered, "shut up."

Peter just chuckled as he unlocked the door to their room and held it open for her. "Don't be gettin' all pissed off at me now, Sugar Britches. I tried to help ya." Once he closed the door, he glanced at the clock on the wall, "ya got 'bout an hour to get ready to go out for the night. Take a hot shower and settle down, Baby Doll. It's only money."

Glaring at him again, "says the fucker that just won seven thousand dollars to the chick that lost one. Screw you."

Humming a bit, Peter grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him, "that an offer?"

Glare turning to a pout, "no, you're making fun of me on my birthday."

Rolling his eyes a bit, Peter dipped his head and ran his nose along her jaw, "naw, you misunderstood, Little Darlin', I would never do that."

She pulled away from him and cocked a brow, "uh huh, yeah, you're still doin' it, asshole."

At that Peter chuckled, "yeah, a little bit." Stepping back and swatting her on the ass, "shower woman, or we gonna be late and miss ya show."

Smacking him back, Isabella went to do just that, grabbing her clothes from her bag and locking the bathroom door just because he pissed her off.

Half and hour later, a squeaky clean Isabella came out of the bathroom wearing a jean miniskirt, halter top and her boots. She was running the towel over her hair when there was a whistle, prompting her to lift her head because there was NOT Peter. Cocking her head a bit, "what the fuck you doin' in here?"

Alistair shrugged and looked back at the book in his hands, "Peter got a call that needed his immediate attention. I am here to escort you to Circus Circus in his place until he can make it."

Slowly shaking her head as she tossed the towel onto the bed and crossed her arms, "not want I meant. Why are you in HERE and not in the common room?"

"Ah, well, the scenery is better in here."

Blinking at him, she pointed to the door, "out. I'll be ready in a minute." Right before he shut the door behind him, she called for him to wait, "did he say what it was about?"

Alistair shook his head, "sorry Sweet Pea, not to me; only that he would see you there."

Nodding a little, she picked up her brush and finished getting ready while racking her brain for anything that might have pulled him away like that. The only thing that came to mind was Jasper but Peter never told her what was going on with him so she really didn't know.

With a sigh, she picked up her hat, or Peter's hat she stole rather, grabbed her purse and left the room.

The walk to Circus Circus wasn't terribly long, Isabella and Alistair making one pit stop to have a beer on the way, making it to the other hotel at ten of seven. In the lobby they found Rick, Lee and Lex since Dem had to leave for a family emergency and wasn't with them anymore, but no sign of Peter.

Looking up at Alistair when he set a hand on the small of her back, she cocked a brow and he smiled in return, "he'll be here, Sweet Pea, just calm down." Pulling her ticket to the show out of his back pocket, he handed it over, "just enjoy yourself and he'll be back before ya know it."

"But where the fuck did he go to talk on the phone?"

Alistair chuckled as he gave her a push, "I stopped trying to figure that boy out twenty years ago, Sweet Pea. I suggest ya stop now 'fore ya drive yourself crazy."

Trying to keep the pout off her face, she allowed herself to be led to the auditorium where Cirque du Soleil was put on, handed over her ticket and followed the usher to the front table that Peter had got her for her birthday.

Once they were seated, Alistair sent Peter a text but keeping his phone where she couldn't see it.

 _Your Lady is about cry. Where the fuck are you?_

When all he got back was a fucking face, he was pretty sure he was gonna kick the boy's ass when he finally got there.

What he didn't know was Peter was already there, currently pointing out his girl to one of the performers that he had known for a couple of years, who happened to be one of his fans, and in exchange for tickets to the tournament the next day was willing to do him a little favor for his lady's birthday.

At seven the lights dimmed down and the music started up. Isabella turned and looked behind her to see if Peter had made it there yet, but didn't see him... until she turned back around. He was leaning against the front of the stage, arms and ankles crossed and even though it was dark, she knew there was a smirk on his face.

When Peter saw her looking at him, he tipped his hat to her as the performers began to come on stage.

Isabella blinked a little at him before looking back the stage when a few of the performers came out with things that she didn't think they usually did. Next thing she knew, those same ones began to flipping off stage, perfectly in time with the music playing, and headed right for her.

The audience around her clapped and cheered as she was given balloons, two dozen red roses and one performer moved to stand behind her and draped something around her neck before whispering 'Happy Birthday' in her ear and moving away before they began to flip and hand spring back to the stage.

Once the floor was clear, Peter went over to the table and leaned on it, smiling at his girl as she stared at her, "still mad at me, Little Darlin'?"

Not knowing what to say, Isabella just set her flowers down, got up and threw her arms around his neck.

Peter returned the hug and picked her up, one of her feet kicking up behind her as he swung her around to the sound of the crowd's cheers and whistles from their table.


	16. Chapter 16

**BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ**

Isabella was on her feet, the boys following suit, when the gates opened and Peter, riding on the back of a young bronco named Tazar, came out into the corral. The horse was kicking and spinning around in circles and Isabella was mesmerized at the fluidness that Peter rode with. She normally didn't watch this even but his 'friends' wanted to see him hit the dust and she didn't want to be by herself, so she watched as his hips rolled, his back arch. He had lost his hat not a full second out the gate so his hair was flying behind him and getting in his eyes.

Beside her she heard Alistair counting, but the bronco called her full attention back when it kicked out hard at the same time it spun making Peter lose his grip and with one more kick he was off.

Peter hit hard on his shoulder with a grunt but was back up quick enough to avoid the hooves aiming for head. With a well practiced twist and slide he was out of the danger zone while the hands and clowns dealt with the fucking buck. After rolling his shoulder a few times and a hand up to the spectators, who were cheering as his time was called, he calmly went to pick up his hat and head out to face his sure to be freaked out girlfriend that had never seen him hit the ground before.

After the mandatory stop at the medics for all riders that hit the dirt to have his shoulder checked and make sure it was still in the socket, Peter stepped out of the arena and turned to the sound of his name, a smirk on his face when he saw his girl, a strange mix of concern and desire on her face. _Huh, well now that's interestin'_ _._ Babying the shoulder he landed on a little, he used the other one to wrap around her shoulders when she wrapped her arms around his waist.

Isabella looked up at him, really trying to hid the effect his hips during that ride had on her, "are you alright? That looked kinda painful."

Giving her a smile, Peter nodded, "I'm fine, Sugar Britches. That most certainly ain't the first, nor will it be the last, time I hit the ground. But so ya don't freak out later, there will prolly be a nasty lookin' bruise."

She nodded and Lee, the little bastard, clapped a hand on the shoulder he just landed on prompting Peter to yelp. Turning to his friend with a glare, "OW! Jesus, just 'cause I said I was fine don't mean it don't hurt when ya smack it, ya fuck."

Lee at least tried to look sheepish over that, "sorry man, but fuck me; that was pretty good ridin' there, Witty. 7.2 on a brand new Bronc. Ya think that gonna be 'nuff to move on in that event in the tournament?

Peter ran a hand down his face and shrugged, "I dunno. My bronc bucked harder but my time was shorter. There are different factors that go into the score so it'll be a coin toss if I move on or not. Won't know till the end of the day. Anyway, I got 'bout half hour till my next one and I'm fuckin' starvin'."

Looking down at his girl, "how 'bout you?" When she smiled and nodded, he stepped out of her arms, presented his to her and the lot of them went in search of something besides hot dogs.

Being that they were right outside Vegas, it wasn't hard. They found a barbecue vendor that sold beer as well and got some lunch from there. They were at a picnic table off to the side when Isabella looked up to say something to Rick and froze solid, choking on her chicken with the whimper got caught in her throat.

Peter looked down at her when he heard her choke, giving her back a few hard pats, "whoa, Little Darlin', you alright?" When she didn't say anything, he turned to look where she was and his eyes sparked when he saw what he had assumed she did. "She ain't shit, Baby Doll."

Finally clearing her throat, she took a deep breath and shook her head, "no, not her. That iron cunt don't deserve the brain power required to do a cunt punt." Peter blinked at her, knowing she had a mouth on her but that was the first time he had ever heard her say something quite like THAT. The other boys looked at her with varying looks of shock, Alistair actually having to turn his head so he didn't spit his beer in Peter's face. Then she lowered her voice, "look who she's with."

All five guys turned back to look at where the town whore from back home was standing, wrapped up nice and tight around the arm of a guy that had they seen in any other situation, they would have thought he swung for the home team. Rick was the first one to recognize him, his mind flashing back to the night that he damn near broke the bastard's cheek bone on the concrete breeze way back in California.

"Oh, that mother fucker."

When Rick went to stand up, Alistair grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed his ass back down on the bench, "don't." When Rick looked back at him, Al jetting his chin over to the other side of the walkway, "he's doin' it on purpose. Look."

Everyone glanced over to where he was indicating and saw some security guards and a couple of Vegas police officers.

"You go over there, your ass'll land in jail right 'long with 'im."

Rick glared hard but gave in and stayed seated. "So, we ain't gonna do shit 'bout this?"

Alistiar cocked a brow at him before before he said anything, there was an announcement calling for the riders that were in the barrel race qualifier. Looking over at Peter, Alistair smirked, "ya'll better get a move on, Witty. I'll take care of this."

Peter cocked a brow as he stood up, "what you up to?"

Alistair chuckled, "You know better. I tell ya, they start usin' terms such as premeditated in court. GO, Peter... now."

Peter looked at him for a moment longer before nodding and, after helping his girl up, led her away from the table as Alistair, Lee, Lex and Rick stood up as well.

Rick looked at Al, "what are you doin'"

Smirking at him, "if I wouldn't tell Witty, what the fuck makes you think I'ma tell you? Now, come on, I'ma need ya'll to lend a hand right quick and then distract the law."

Looking at each other a moment, they shrugged and took off after Alistair. It wasn't like it really mattered what his plan was. Any of them would go to bat for Peter and his girl in a heartbeat. Hell, two of them went to jail for him once and had no problem doing it again.

 ***X***

Peter had just finished his run and left the corral when Hoss cut him off on his way back to the stables. Pulling Rocky to a stop, he set his hand on the horn and gave Rocky's neck a pat to settle him back down, "What's up Hoss."

Garrett held up a flyer, "there a brawl goin' on and only three of them boys showed back up at the stables."

Grabbing the paper from Garrett, Peter took one look at it before jerking Rocky's reigns around and heeled him in ribs, spurring the horse into a full sprint as the flyer of Edward Cullen's wanted poster floated to the ground.

Garrett crossed his arms as he watched Peter weave his horse through the mass of people right towards the fight that the police were having a fuck of a time breaking up. Cocking a brow and smirking wide, he chuckled, "thought so."

Peter didn't pull Rocky to slow until the big ass fight was in view... and there was law enforcement everywhere. Pulling his horse to a stop, Peter stood up in on the stirrups, trying to see over the heads and bodies for the dumb ass but couldn't see him anywhere. Biting his lip, he took a deep breath, "Alistair!"

Rocky started to back away from the fray, the volume level spooking him a bit. Peter tugged the reigns to turn him back when he heard his name called from his right. Turning that way, he saw his friend leaning on a tree, watching from a perfectly safe distance with a smirk on his face.

Pushing himself off the tree, Alistair clasped his hands behind his back and strolled towards Peter, "did you know, that a picture is worth a thousand words and if you put a picture containing the words 'domestic violence and bail jumping' in the grasp of two hundred and fifty southern raised Mama's Boys, this would be the end result? 'Cause I had no idea."

Peter dropping down hard on the seat of his saddle and just stared at him for a minute before shaking his head, "what the fuck?"

Alistair shrugged, a small chuckle in his throat, "This is what I have been tryin' to teach ya since we was little, Petey Boy. You don't always need to use your OWN fists to get the desired results. Just call me the new age, 'backwoods hick'." Alistair glanced off to the side, watching the fight for a moment long before he snorted, 'can't wait for this shit to make the news tonight." Looking up at Peter, "think they killed him?"

Peter shrugged as he turned Rocky away from the scene and tapped his ribs, "I fuckin' hope so."

 ***X***

That night, the boys were watching the news, waiting to see what was said about the brawl at the rodeo that afternoon, and Isabella was in the shower just wanting it to be over.

After she got out, dried off and put on her underwear, she was digging around in her toiletry bag for her lotion when her fingers closed around something else. Pulling it out, she stared at it in confusion for a minute before her eyes went wide and she dropped it like it burned her and she jumped back and into the wall, making a bang that could be heard in the other room.

Peter's head snapped to the bathroom door, brow drawn down in concern and called out, "everythin' alright, Little Darlin'?"

Ignoring him, Isabella continued to stare in horror at the innocent little object, her head shaking back and forth, 'no' falling from her lips over and over again. Hearing her name again snapped her out of her horrified shock enough to run out of the room, but not enough to put on anything other than the bra and panties she was wearing.

The boys watched as she tore across the room to the bedroom, shoulder checking the door and the sounds of all matter of shit slamming into the walls. Peter blinked a few times before he excused himself and went to try and get her to calm down enough to tell him what was going on.

When he got to the door, he glanced inside the room and saw her ripping clothes and everything else out of both their bags. He had to duck more than once to avoid getting hit with a projectile of all matter and each time he called to her but each time she completely ignored him.

When she ran out of shit to throw and was standing there with her fingers in her hair, he tried again, "Isabella!" That seemed to catch her attention. When she was finally looking at him, "what the hell is the matter, Little Darlin'?"

She stared at him for a second before her hack went ramrod straight, "my purse... where's my purse?"

He blinked at her once, "on the table by the couch where you left it." Before he was able to once again ask what was wrong, she darted past him again going to the table and snatching her purse up.

Digging around in it for far too long for as uptight as she was, Isabella finally growled, turned it upside down and dumped it all over the floor, dropping to her knees and batting shit she wasn't after out of her way till she saw it. Grabbing what the boys thought was a makeup case, she opened it and let out a cry before turning back to the floor, this time in hunt of the daily planner that she carried. Snatching it up when she found it, she flipped the pages and shook her head again, "no, no, nononononononono..."

Peter dropped his head back on his shoulders and sighed before going over to his clearly freaked out girlfriend and crouched down, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to finally look at him, "Isabella, Baby Doll what the fuck is goin' on?"

She looked at him like he was an idiot and like he should already know that answer. Turning the birth control pill case to face him, "see these?" He nodded and she continued, "these are period pills. There is blood with the period pills. There is always blood with the period pills." Snatching a tampon off the floor, "these stop said blood from aforementioned period pills. For twelve fuckin' years there has been stopping of blood from the period pills." Then her voice started to get louder the more worked up she got. "There is not now, any blood to stop from the period pills. There is no blood from the... Oh my god... there is no blood from the fuckin' period pills. Peter, there is no blood while taking the period pills!"

Peter just stared at her for a second, his mind in a fog as what the fuck she just settled in his brain. Finally, he nodded slowly and spoke even slower, "I caught that, Sugar Britches."

The other guys in the room just stared at them as they too figured out what the hell the little lady was freaking out about. The only one with enough balls to say anything at the moment however, was Alistair.

"Huh, well, that is a reaction to a baby you never actually see on television."

At the word 'baby' Isabella whimpered and Peter looked at Alistair out of the corner of his eye, "out."

"So, now isn't the best time for congrats..."

Peter cut him off, "NOW."

Smirking wide, Alistair stood up from the couch and nodded, "maybe later then."

Once the others were gone, Peter turned back to his girl and dipped his head, trying to catch her eyes, that were now full of tears, some even making the escape and sliding down her cheeks. Shaking his head a little and cupping her face with his hands, he used the pads of his thumbs and wiped the tears away, "oh, Baby Doll, don't do that."

Lifting wet eyes to his, Isabella sniffled, "how did this happen?"

Peter cocked a brow at her, "well, when a man puts his penis..."

Scoffing at him, Isabella pulled away and stood up, "What the hell is wrong with you? This is serious, Peter."

Peter stayed right where he was and nodded, "sure, but why that gotta make it bad?"

Blinking at him, she shook her head a little, "what? Peter, are you fuckin' insane?"

Peter hummed in his throat a little, "you would be surprised at how often I get asked that. But, seriously, why this gotta be the end of the world? It ain't like I'ma abandon ya or nothin'." When he saw something pass through her eyes, he snorted a little, "that's what ya thought, wasn't it?"

When she wouldn't meet his eyes, Peter chuckled a little and looked up at the ceiling, "what happened to the smart girl I went out with that first time?" Standing up and moving to stand in front of her, he crooked a finger under her chin and lifted her to face him, "Why the hell would you think that I could just walk away, just like that?"

Shrugging a little, Isabella dropped her eyes, "your lifestyle ain't all that conducive to kids, Peter, and you've been doin' it way longer than I've been around. I can't ask you to..."

Peter covered her mouth and smirked at her, "hush it up, Little Darlin'. When you gonna figure it out, I like to ride sure, but I LOVE you. And you ain't ever asked me for shit, Baby Doll, and you ain't askin' now. So I retire a little sooner than I thought, big fuckin' deal. Trust me when I say, I don't care. Let me ask ya somethin', do you even know where the different events even started?"

Since he was still covering her mouth, she just shook her head.

Smiling at her, "they started as chores done around the farms and ranches, shit I been doin' since I was kid and still gonna be doin' at home. The only difference is, I ain't gonna get paid for it."

Looking up at him through her lashes, Isabella pulled his hand away and smiled a little, "You don't HAVE to retire, maybe, just slow down a little? How about, one weekend a month instead of every weekend, the Nationals and any subsequent qualifying tournaments for it and your birthday, that sound alright?"

Peter cocked a brow at her, "added up, that's more than I ride now."

Cocking a brow back at him, " but it's more spread out." Then she giggled a little, "Now, take it or retire."

Snorting a little, Peter shook his head, "deal, Little Darlin'." Then he pressed his lips to hers.

In the background, the news came back on;

 _In local news, at the first of seven qualifying events of the National Rodeo Championships, a fight broke out resulting in the arrest of twenty five men, including a man from northern California that was wanted for jumping a posted bail bond on counts of assault and domestic abuse against his girlfriend. Edward Cullen, the only son to the acclaimed plastic surgeon Carlisle Cullen, is in critical but stable condition in a local Las Vegas hospital. Though the full extent of his injuries have not been released at this time, sources tell us that the young man will be lucky if he will be able to walk upon release._

 _The local police tell us that the fight started after the ground was littered with printed flyers of an old wanted poster from back in May, when Cullen first disappeared from California. One officer even told one of our reporters that had that fight not occurred, they more than likely would not have known he was there and would have once again escaped capture and continued to be on the run and a danger to the young lady he was accused of harming. Her name has not been released for her continued safety._

Peter pursed his lips and huffed, "damn."

Looking up at him, Isabella blinked, "what?"

"They didn't kill 'im." Then Peter cocked his head to the side, "then again" glancing down at his girl, Peter smirked wide enough to show his teeth, "that means I still get to shoot 'im."


	17. Epilogue

"Whoever said this shit was beautiful, has the most fucked up, distorted definition of the term I have ever seen."

Dropping back against the pillows behind her, Isabella gasped for breath while doing her damnedest to glare at him. "Peter..."

Not hearing the warning in her voice, Peter looked over at her, "no, seriously, this shit is all kinds of creepy."

Glaring a little harder, she growled and crooked a finger at him, grabbing his shirt when he was close enough to get her hands on. Nose to nose, "there is a PERSON comin' out my crotch that YOU put there. Shut the FUCK up before I make sure it don't EVER happen again."

Hit with another contraction, she let him go and curled around herself, pushing for what had to be the millionth time. She had been in labor at this point for going on 20 hours and she was sick and fucking tired of the kid being inside. Voice strained but no less pissed off mommy sounding, "come on you stubborn little bastard, get out so you can go to you father."

It took another fifteen minutes, five more threats of castration and two more pleas to the baby before the room was filled with the sounds of a baby's first cry.

 ***X***

In the waiting room, there was a very large congression of people waiting on news if the birth. Peter knowing that, he made his entrance in the most dramatic way possible.

Throwing the doors open, leaving his arm spread wide, he had a proud, beaming smile on his face, "It's a boy."

The room erupted into whistles and cheers, Miss. Whitlock getting up and going to her baby, wrapping him up tight in her arms.

Returning the embrace, "and both Mama and baby are doin' just fine."

Pulling away and looking up at her son, "and what is my little grandbaby called?"

Smiling at the pride in her eyes, "Parker Jay, Ma'am." Then he cocked a brow at her, "wanna go see 'im?"

Scoffing at the playful look, "does a bear shit in the woods? Take me to meet my boy."

Chuckling a bit, "yes, Ma'am." Looking back at the room, "he's still gettin' checked over, so only three at a time till he gets taken back to his mama. Who else wants to come?"

Jasper and Mr. Whitlock both stood up and followed Peter, who was escorting his mama through the door, back to where the newest member of their family was getting a bath and all that before he was taken back to his mother once she was moved to her postpartum room.

Stopping at the window to the nursery, Peter pointed his son out to his parents and big brother, "There he is, puttin' up one hell of a fight against wearin' a diaper."

Bev giggled a little, "you didn't like 'em either, Peter. You kicked your daddy in the nose I can't tell you how many times when you was a baby." Then she tisked, "my lLrd, he is just about the most precious little baby, Peter."

Smiling wide as he leaned on the railing below the window, "thank you, Mama."

"Mr. Whitlock?" The nurse giggled a little when three sets of eyes turned her direction. Scratching her temple, "I meant the daddy of the newborn."

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"Isabella is still being moved to her new room so it's gonna be about twenty minutes or so before the baby will be taken back to her. Do you want to come in and see him?"

When Peter nodded, he was asked to show his wrist band, and then was allowed into the nursery, his baby boy pointed out to him and left to get acquainted. He wasn't dumb enough to get between that baby and his mama though. Once she was seated in the rocking chair with Parker in her arms, Peter leaned against a counter that was next to it and just watched his mama rock his son, all kinds of thoughts and visions dancing through his mind, the foremost being how long after this should he wait before he asks his girl to marry him.

 ***X***

"Uncle Japser?"

Smiling at the fact his nephew still couldn't pronounce his name, Jasper leaned his head back and looked up at the spitting image of his little brother when he was four, if he had brown eyes, that was sitting on his shoulders. "What's up, little man?"

Confused beyond belief, Parker tilted his head to the side and gave him the finger, "what does that mean?"

Covering Parker's hand before his mother saw that shit and had his hide, Jasper shook his head, "don't do that."

"But you did."

Looking around for his tiny little sister in law, Jasper sighed a little, "That means... um..."

"That your Uncle Jasper is an idiot, and your mama gonna whoop 'im."

Turning to the very amused face of his brother's best friend, Jasper groaned, "fu...dge."

Alistair snorted hard before laughing just as hard, "you gonna get it, Jazz. If them two can keep it clean 'round that boy, you certainly can." Looking up at the tyke, "Your mama lookin' for ya, Parker."

"Am I in trouble? Uncle Japser was the one that wanted to leave where mama said to stay."

Smirking at Jasper, "Then I guess it would be Uncle Jasper that gonna be facin' her wrath when ya'll get back. She just about ready to rip her hair out 'cause aint a one of ya said you was gonin' anywhere." Then he locked his eyes in Jasper's, "And ya daddy out lookin' for ya too."

There was no stopping the forbidden word from escaping Jasper's mouth at that.

Before there was any chance to head back, Jasper caught sight of Peter heading their way on Spirit, since Rocky had been retired out, and looking relieved while at the same time, ready to murder him.

Peter glared at his brother when he was closer, "Isabella gonna have your hide, Jazz. Any reason ya didn't open your mouth and say you was takin' him out and lettin' her think he wondered off? She's in an uproar you ain't ever seen before."

Before Jasper could say anything, Parker cut the tension right out of the air with a call of "Daddy!"

Glaring at Jasper just a second longer, Peter turned to his son, a flat look on his face, "you in for it too, Youngin. You know better than to leave without tellin' your mama where you goin' first." Once he nodded, Peter plucked him off Jasper's shoulders and settled him in front of him of the saddle. Looking back at Jasper, "Word of advice, wait a bit before you head on back 'cause my wife ready to kill you."

Once Jasper nodded, Peter tapped the horse's sides and turned him in the direction of his frantic wife, giving his son an ear full for taken off until he was once again in his mother's sights.

 ***X***

Once she calmed down, Isabella took Parker to the stands to watch his daddy in the final round of the Nationals. When she was joined by Alistair and Jasper, she cracked Jazz upside the back of the head and helped her son up on to Alistair's shoulders so he could see.

It was the last event of the competition and so far, Peter had done very well. She wouldn't let Parker watch him ride the bull but had agreed to let him watch the saddle bronco round.

When Peter was called as the next rider, Isabella smiled up at her baby boy, "you 'member how to count to eight, P.J.?"

Grinning at her, Parker nodded, "yes, Mama."

"And do you 'member what daddy said about that number?"

Smiling bigger, "yes, Mama. It takes 8 seconds to win."

Nodding at him, Isabella turned back to the corral at the sound of the buzzer, blowing a loud whistle when the gate opened and Parker began counting out loud...

"One..."

 **Fin**


End file.
